•    •    •      : 

GEORGE  CARYEGGLES 


GOLSAN 


"    T  ALREADY  KNOW    WHAT 
J.      IS  IN   THE  PAPERS." 


EVELYN   BYRD 


By  GEORGE    GARY   EGGLESTON 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  CAROLINA  CAVALIER,"  "DORO 
THY  SOUTH,"  "THE  MASTER  OF  WARLOCK," 
*'  RUNNING  THE  RIVER,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED     BY 
CHARLES     COPELAND 


NEW   YORK 
GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1904, 

BY 
GEORGE  GARY   EGGLESTON. 


Published  May,  1904. 


NortoooB  $«Z8 

J.  8.  Cashing  >fc  O.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

rHIS  book  is  the  third  and  last  of  a 
trilogy  of   romances.      In    that  trilogy 
I  have  endeavoured  to  show  forth  the 
character  of  the  Virginians  —  men  and  women. 
In  "Dorothy  South"  I  tried  to  show  what 
the  Virginians  were  while  the  old  life  lasted — 
"before  the  war." 

In  "  The  Master  of  Warlock "  I  endeavoured 
faitJifully  to  depict  the  same  people  as  they  were 
during  the  first  half  of  the  Civil  War,  when 
their  valour  seemed  to  promise  everything  of 
results  that  they  desired.  In  "Evelyn  Byrd"  I 
have  sought  to  show  the  heroism  of  endurance 
that  marked  the  conduct  of  those  people  during 
the  last  half  of  the  war,  when  disaster  stared 
them  in  the  face  and  they  unfalteringly  con 
fronted  it. 

GEORGE  CARY  EGGLESTON. 


X!   V-'  -2    -f    *-~ 

JL  /  JL  JL 


CONTENTS 


I.  A  STRICKEN  CORSAGE  . 

II.  OWEN  KILGARIFF  .... 

III.  EVELYN  BYRD        .... 

IV.  THE  LETTING  DOWN  OF  THE  BARS 
V.  DOROTHY'S  OPINIONS 

VI.  "WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK"   . 

VII.  WITH  EVELYN  AT  WYANOKE 

VIII.  SOME  REVELATIONS  OF  EVELYN    . 

IX.  THE  GREAT  WAR  GAME 

X.  THE  LAW  OF  LOVE 

XI.  ORDERS  AND  "No  NONSENSE" 

XII.  SAFE-CONDUCT  OF  Two  KINDS 

XIII.  KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

XIV.  IN  THE  WATCHES  OF  THE  NIGHT 
XV.  IN  THE  TRENCHES 

XVI.  THE  STARVING  TIME     . 

XVII.  A  GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

XVIII.  EVELYN'S  REVELATION  . 

XIX.  DOROTHY'S  DECISION     . 

XX.  A  MAN,  A  MAID,  AND  A  HORSE  . 


PAGE 

9 
29 

5° 
59 
70 

79 

102 

118 

144 
152 
167 
178 
185 

2IO 
216 
224 
242 
269 
277 
283 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXI.  EVELYN  LIFTS  A  CORNER  OF  THE  CUR 
TAIN    

XXII.  ALONE  IN  THE  PORCH   .... 

XXIII.  A  LESSON  FROM  DOROTHY    . 

XXIV.  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

XXV.  MORE  OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

XXVI.  EVELYN'S  BOOK,  CONTINUED 

XXVII.  KILGARIFF'S  PERPLEXITY 

XXVIII.  EVELYN'S  BOOK,  CONCLUDED 

XXIX.  EVELYN'S  VIGIL 

XXX.  BEFORE  A  HICKORY  FIRE     . 

XXXI.  THE  LAST  FLIGHT  OF  EVELYN 

XXXII.  THE  END  OF  IT  ALL 


294 

302 
3i3 
327 
345 
370 
386 

39° 
418 
424 
432 
434 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  I  already  know  what  is  in  the  papers  "  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"  Who  are  you  ?" 89 

"  I  may  stroke  his  fur  as  much  as  I  please  "    .     166 

Taking  the  papers  from  Campbell's  hand, 
passed  out  of  the  house  without  a  word  of 
farewell  208 


EVELYN    BYRD 


I 

A   STRICKEN    CORSAGE 

A  BATTERY  of  six  twelve-pounder  Na 
poleon  guns  lay  in  a  little  skirt  of 
woodland  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
Rapidan.  It  was  raining,  not  violently,  but  with 
a  soaking  persistence  that  might  well  have  made 
the  artillery-men  tired  of  life  and  ready  to  wel 
come  whatever  end  that  day's  skirmishing  might 
bring  to  the  weariness  of  living.  But  these  men 
were  veteran  soldiers,  inured  to  hardship  as  well 
as  to  danger.  A  saturating  rain  meant  next  to 
nothing  to  them.  A  day's  discomfort,  more  or 
less,  counted  not  at  all  in  the  monotonously 
uncomfortable  routine  of  their  lives. 

They  had  been  sent  into  the  woodland  an 
hour  or  two  ago,  and  had  done  a  little  desultory 
firing  now  and  then,  merely  by  way  of  Disturbing 

9 


EVELYN  BTRD 

the  movements  of  small  bodies  of  the  enemy 
who  were  being  shifted  about  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river. 

Just  now  the  guns  were  silent,  no  enemy 
being  in  sight,  and  Captain  Marshall  Pollard 
being  disposed  to  save  his  ammunition  against 
the  time,  now  obviously  near  at  hand,  when  the 
new  commander  of  the  Federal  forces,  General 
Grant,  should  push  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
across  the  river  to  make  a  final  trial  of  strength 
and  sagacity  with  that  small  but  wonderfully 
fighting  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  directed  by 
the  master  mind  of  Robert  E.  Lee. 

But,  while  no  enemy  was  within  sight,  there 
was  a  hornets'  nest  of  Federal  sharp-shooters 
concealed  in  a  barn  not  far  beyond  the  river, 
and  from  their  secure  cover  they  were  very 
seriously  annoying  the  Confederate  lines.  The 
barn  lay  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  battery  front, 
but  near  enough  for  the  sharp-shooters'  bullets 
to  cut  twigs  from  the  tree  under  which  Captain 
Marshall  Pollard  sat  on  horseback  with  Owen 
Kilgariff  by  his  side.  Still,  the  fire  of  the 
sharp-shooters  was  not  mainly  directed  upon 
the  woodland-screened  battery,  but  upon  the 
troops  in  the  open  field  on  Pollard's  left. 
10 


A   STRICKEN   CORSAGE 

Presently  Captain  Pollard,  with  the  peculiar 
deliberation  which  characterised  all  his  actions, 
lowered  his  field-glass  from  his  eyes,  and,  with 
drawing  a  handkerchief  from  a  rain-proof  breast 
pocket,  began  polishing  the  mist-obscured  lenses. 
As  he  did  so,  he  said  to  Kilgariff :  — 

"  Order  one  of  the  guns  to  burn  that  barn." 

As  he  spoke,  both  his  own  horse  and  Kil- 
gariff's  sank  to  the  ground;  the  one  struggling 
in  the  agony  of  a  mortal  wound,  the  other 
instantly  dead. 

"  And  tell  the  quartermaster-sergeant  to  send 
us  two  more  horses  —  good  ones,"  Captain  Pol 
lard  added,  with  no  more  of  change  in  his  tone 
than  if  the  killing  of  the  horses  at  that  precise 
moment  had  been  a  previously  ordered  part  of 
the  programme. 

A  gun  was  quickly  moved  up  to  a  little  open 
space.  It  fired  two  shots.  The  flames  burst 
from  the  barn,  and  instantly  a  horde  of  sharp 
shooters  abandoned  the  place  and  went  scurry 
ing  across  an  open  field  in  search  of  cover.  As 
they  fled,  the  gun  that  had  destroyed  their 
lurking-place,  and  another  which  Captain  Pol 
lard  had  instantly  ordered  up,  shelled  them 
mercilessly. 

ii 


EVELYN  BTRD 

It  was  then  that  Owen  Kilgariff  said :  — 

"That  barn  was  full  of  fodder.  Its  owner 
had  saved  a  little  something  against  a  future 
need,  and  now  all  the  results  of  his  toil  have 
gone  up  in  smoke.  That  's  war !  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Captain  Pollard,  "  and  the 
worst  of  it  is  that  the  man  whose  possessions 
we  have  destroyed  is  our  friend,  and  not  our 
enemy ;  again,  as  you  say,  '  that  's  war.'  War 
is  destruction  —  whether  the  thing  destroyed 
be  that  of  friend  or  foe." 

Just  then  a  new  and  vicious  fire  of  skilled 
sharp-shooters  broke  forth  from  the  mansion- 
house  of  the  plantation  to  which  the  burned 
barn  had  belonged.  It  was  an  old-time  colo 
nial  edifice.  Marshall  Pollard  had  spent  many 
delightful  days  and  nights  under  its  hospitable 
roof.  He  had  learned  to  love  its  historic  asso 
ciations.  He  knew  and  loved  every  old  portrait 
that  hung  on  its  oak-wainscotted  walls.  He 
knew  and  loved  every  stick  of  its  old,  colonial, 
plantation-made  furniture;  its  very  floors  of 
white  ash,  that  had  been  polished  every  morn 
ing  for  two  hundred  years ;  and  its  mahogany 
dining-table,  around  which  distinguished  guests 
had  gathered  through  many  generations.  All 
12 


A   STRICKEN  CORSAGE 

these  were  dear  to  the  peculiarly  sympathetic 
soul  of  the  scholar-soldier,  Marshall  Pollard,  a 
man  born  for  books,  and  set  by  adverse  fate  to 
command  batteries  instead ;  a  man  of  creative 
genius,  as  his  novels  and  poems,  written  after 
the  war,  abundantly  proved,  set  for  the  time  to 
do  the  brutal  work  of  destruction.  He  remem 
bered  the  library  of  that  mansion,  too,  the  slow 
accumulation  of  two  hundred  years.  He  had 
read  there  precious  volumes  that  existed  nowhere 
else  in  America,  and  that  money  could  not  du 
plicate,  however  lavishly  it  might  be  offered  for 
books,  of  which  no  fellows  were  to  be  found 
except  upon  the  sealed  shelves  of  the  British 
Museum,  or  in  other  great  public  collections 
from  which  no  treasures  are  ever  to  be  sold 
while  the  world  shall  endure. 

That  house,  with  all  its  memories  and  all  its 
treasures,  must  be  destroyed.  Marshall  Pollard 
clearly  understood  the  necessity,  and  he  was 
altogether  a  soldier  now,  in  spite  of  his  strong 
inclinations  to  peace  and  civilisation,  and  all 
gentleness  of  spirit.  Yet  he  found  it  difficult  to 
order  the  work  of  destruction  that  it  was  his 
manifest  duty  to  do.  Presently,  with  bullets 
whistling  about  his  ears,  he  turned  to  Owen 
13 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Kilgariff,  and,  in  a  tone  of  petulance  that  was 
wholly  foreign  to  his  habit,  asked  :  — 

"  Why  don't  you  order  the  thing  done  ?  Why 
do  you  sit  there  on  your  horse  waiting  for  me 
to  give  the  order  ?  " 

Kilgariff  understood.  He  was  a  man  accus 
tomed  to  understand  quickly;  and  now  that 
Captain  Pollard  had  made  him  his  chief  staff 
officer,  sergeant-major  of  the  battery,  his  orders, 
whatever  they  might  be,  carried  with  them  all 
the  authority  of  the  captain's  own  commands. 

Kilgariff  instantly  rode  back  to  the  battery 
and  ordered  up  two  sections — four  guns.  Ad 
vancing  them  well  to  the  front,  where  the  house 
to  be  shot  at  could  be  easily  seen,  he  posted 
them  with  entire  calm,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
a  Federal  battery  of  rifled  guns  stationed  at  a 
long  distance  was  playing  vigorously  upon  his 
position,  and  not  without  effect.  The  artillery 
men  in  both  armies  had,  by  this  late  period  of 
the  war,  become  marksmen  so  expert  that  the 
only  limit  of  the  effectiveness  of  their  fire  was 
the  limit  of  their  range. 

Half  a  dozen  of  Marshall  Pollard's  men  bit 
the  dust,  and  nearly  a  dozen  of  his  horses  were 
killed,  while  Owen  Kilgariff  was  getting  the 


A   STRICKEN   CORSAGE 

four  guns  into  position  for  the  effective  doing 
of  the  work  to  be  done,  although  that  pro 
cess  of  placing  the  guns  occupied  less  than  a 
minute  of  time.  Two  wheels  of  cannon  car 
riages  were  smashed  by  well-directed  rifle 
shells,  but  these  were  quickly  replaced  by  the 
extra  wheels  carried  on  the  caissons ;  for  every 
detail  of  artillery  drill  was  an  a-b-c  to  the  vet 
erans  of  this  battery,  and  if  the  men  had  nerves, 
the  fact  was  never  permitted  to  manifest  itself 
when  there  was  work  of  war  to  be  done. 

Within  sixty  seconds  after  Owen  Kilgariff 
rode  away  to  give  the  orders  that  Marshall 
Pollard  hesitated  to  give,  four  Napoleon  guns 
were  firing  four  shells  each,  a  minute,  into  a 
mansion  that  had  been  famous  throughout  all 
the  history  of  Virginia,  since  the  time  when 
William  Byrd  had  been  Virginia's  foremost 
citizen  and  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Horse 
shoe  had  ridden  out  to  possess  themselves  of 
the  regions  to  the  west. 

Half  a  minute  accomplished  the  purpose. 
The  mansion  was  in  flames,  the  sharp-shooters 
who  had  made  a  fortress  of  it  were  scurrying 
to  the  cover  of  the  underbrush  a  few  hundred 
yards  in  rear,  and  Owen  Kilgariff  ordered  the 
15 


EPELYN  BTRD 

guns  to  "cease  firing"  and  return  to  the  cover 
of  the  woodlands  whence  they  had  been 
brought  forward  for  this  service.  Six  of 
Marshall  Pollard's  men  lay  stark  and  stiff  on 
the  little  meadow  which  the  guns  had  occupied. 
These  were  hastily  removed  for  decent  burial. 
Nine  others  were  wounded.  They  were  car 
ried  away  upon  litters  for  surgical  attention. 

These  details  in  no  way  disturbed  the  battery 
camp.  They  were  the  commonplaces  of  war ; 
so  the  men,  unmindful  of  them,  cooked  such 
dinner  as  they  could  command,  and  ate  it  with  a 
relish  unimpaired  by  the  events  of  the  morning. 

But  Captain  Marshall  Pollard  and  his  com 
panion,  Sergeant-major  Owen  Kilgariff,  were 
not  minded  for  dinner.  Seeing  the  flames  burst 
forth  from  the  upper  stories  of  the  old  colonial 
mansion,  Kilgariff  said  to  his  captain  :  — 

"  I  wonder  if  all  those  fellows  got  away  ? 
There  may  be  a  wounded  man  or  two  left  in 
the  house  to  roast  to  death.  May  I  ride  over 
there  and  see  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Pollard,   "and  I  will   ride 
with  you.     But  first  order  two  of  the  guns  to 
shell  the  sharp-shooters  in  the  thicket  yonder. 
Otherwise  we  may  not  get  back." 
16 


A   STRICKEN  CORSAGE 

In  spite  of  the  heavy  fire  that  the  two  guns 
poured  into  the  thicket  beyond  the  house,  the 
sharp-shooters  stood  their  ground  like  the  vet 
erans  that  they  were,  and  Pollard  and  Kilgariff 
were  their  targets  as  these  two  swam  the 
swollen  river  and  galloped  across  the  last  year's 
corn  lands  on  their  way  to  the  burning  house. 

Arrived  there,  they  hastily  searched  the 
upper  rooms.  Here  and  there  they  came  upon 
a  dead  soldier,  left  by  his  companions  to  be  in 
cinerated  in  company  with  the  portraits  of  old 
colonial  notables  and  beautiful  colonial  dames 
that  were  falling  from  the  walls  as  the  ancient 
oaken  wainscot  shrivelled  in  the  fire. 

But  no  living  thing  was  found  there,  and  the 
two  Confederates,  satisfied  now  that  there  was 
no  life  to  be  saved,  hurried  down  the  burning 
stairway  and  out  into  the  air,  where  instantly 
they  became  targets  again  for  the  sharp 
shooters,  not  three  hundred  yards  away. 

As  they  were  about  to  mount  their  horses, 
which  had  been  screened  behind  a  wall  projec 
tion,  Kilgariff  suddenly  bethought  him  of  the 
cellar,  and  plunged  down  the  stairway  leading 
to  it.  He  was  promptly  followed  by  his  cap 
tain,  though  both  of  them  realised  the  peculiar 
17 


EVELYN  BTRD 

danger  of  the  descent  at  a  time  when  the  whole 
structure  seemed  about  to  tumble  into  that  pit 
as  a  mass  of  burning  timber.  But  they  realised 
also  that  the  cellar  was  the  place  where  they 
were  most  likely  to  find  living  men  too  badly 
wounded  to  make  their  escape,  and  so,  in  spite 
of  the  terrible  hazard,  they  plunged  into  the 
depths,  intent  only  upon  their  errand  of  mercy. 
A  hasty  glance  around  in  the  half-light 
seemed  to  reveal  only  the  emptiness  of  the 
cavernous  cellar.  But  just  as  the  two  com 
panions  were  about  to  quit  the  place,  in  a 
hurried  effort  to  save  themselves,  a  great, 
blazing  beam  fell  in,  together  with  a  massive 
area  of  flame-enveloped  flooring,  illuminating 
the  place.  As  Kilgariff  turned,  he  caught 
sight  of  a  girl,  crouching  behind  an  angle  of 
the  wall.  She  was  a  tall,  slender  creature, 
and  Kilgariff  was  mighty  in  his  muscularity. 
There  was  not  a  fraction  of  a  second  to  be 
lost  if  escape  from  that  fire  pit  was  in  any 
wise  to  be  accomplished.  Without  a  moment's 
pause,  Kilgariff  threw  his  arm  around  the  girl 
and  bore  her  up  the  cellar  stairs,  just  as  the 
whole  burning  mass  of  timbers  sank  suddenly 
into  the  space  below. 

18 


A   STRICKEN  CORSAGE 

His  captain  followed  him  closely;  and,  emerg 
ing  from  the  flames,  scorched  and  smoke-stifled, 
the  three  stood  still  for  a  moment,  under  the 
deadly  fire  of  the  sharp-shooters.  Then,  with 
recovered  breath,  they  turned  an  angle  of  the 
wall,  mounted  their  horses,  and  sped  away 
toward  the  river,  under  a  rifle  fire  that  seemed 
sufficient  for  the  destruction  of  a  regiment. 
The  shells  from  their  own  side  of  the  line, 
shrieking  above  the  heads  of  the  three  fugitives, 
made  their  horses  squat  almost  to  the  ground ; 
but  with  a  resolution  born  of  long  familiarity 
with  danger,  the  two  soldiers  sped  on,  Kilgariff 
carrying  the  girl  on  the  withers  of  his  horse 
and  trying  to  shield  her  from  the  fire  of  the 
sharp-shooters  by  so  riding  as  to  interpose  his 
own  body  between  her  and  the  swiftly  on-coming 
bullets. 

Finally  the  river  was  reached,  and,  plunging 
into  it,  the  two  horses  bore  their  burdens  safely 
across.  Pollard  might  easily  have  been  fifty 
yards  in  advance  of  his  sergeant-major,  seeing 
that  he  had  the  better  horse,  and  that  his  com 
panion's  animal  was  carrying  double.  But  that 
was  not  Marshall  Pollard's  way.  Instead  of 
riding  as  fast  as  he  could  toward  the  river  and 
19 


EVELYN  BTRD 

the  comparative  safety  that  lay  beyond  it,  he 
rode  with  his  horse's  head  just  overlapping  the 
flanks  of  the  animal  which  bore  the  girl  and  her 
rescuer.  In  this  way  he  managed  to  make  of 
himself  and  his  horse  a  protecting  barrier  be 
tween  the  enemy  and  the  girl  whom  Kilgariff 
was  so  gallantly  trying  to  bear  to  safety. 

This  was  not  a  battle,  or  anything  remotely 
resembling  a  battle.  If  it  had  been,  these  two 
men  would  not  have  left  their  posts  in  the 
battery.  It  was  only  an  insignificant  "  opera 
tion  of  outposts,"  which  the  commanders  in  the 
front  of  both  armies  that  night  reported  as 
"  some  slight  skirmishing  along  the  outer  lines." 
On  neither  side  was  it  thought  worth  while  to 
add  that  fifty  or  sixty  brave  young  fellows  had 
been  done  to  death  in  the  "  slight  skirmishing." 
The  war  was  growing  old  in  the  spring  of 
1864.  Officers,  hardened  by  experience  of  hu 
man  butchery  on  a  larger  scale,  no  longer 
thought  it  necessary  to  report  death  losses  that 
did  not  require  three  figures  for  their  recording. 

When  Pollard  and  Kilgariff  reached  the  bit 
of  woodland  in  which  the  battery  had  been 
posted  for  a  special  purpose,  they  found  the 
guns  already  gone.  The  battery  had  been 

20 


A   STRICKEN   CORSAGE 

ordered  during  their  absence  to  return  to  its 
more  permanent  camp  two  or  three  miles  in 
the  rear,  and  in  Captain  Pollard's  absence  his 
senior  lieutenant  had  taken  command  to  execute 
the  order.  It  is  the  way  of  war  that  "  men 
may  come  and  men  may  go,"  but  there  is 
always  some  one  next  in  command  to  take  the 
place  of  one  in  authority  who  meets  death  or 
is  absent  for  any  other  cause.  An  army  organi 
sation  resembles  Nature  herself  in  its  scrupu 
lous  care  for  the  general  result,  and  in  its 
absolute  indifference  to  the  welfare  or  the  fate 
of  the  individual. 

War  is  a  merciless  thing  —  inhuman,  demoni 
acal,  devilish.  But  incidentally  it  calls  into 
activity  many  of  the  noblest  qualities  of  human 
nature.  It  had  done  so  in  this  instance.  Hav 
ing  fired  the  house  on  the  enemy's  side  of  the 
river,  and  having  thus  driven  away  a  company 
of  sharp-shooters  who  were  grievously  annoy 
ing  the  Confederate  line,  Captain  Pollard's  duty 
was  fully  done.  But,  at  the  suggestion  that 
some  wounded  enemy  might  have  been  left  in 
the  house  to  perish  in  the  torture  of  the  flames, 
he  and  his  companion  had  deliberately  crossed 
the  river  into  the  enemy's  country,  and  had 

21 


EVELYN  BTRD 

ridden  under  a  galling  fire  to  the  burning  build 
ing,  as  earnestly  and  as  daringly  intent  upon 
their  mission  of  mercy  as  they  had  been  a  little 
while  before  upon  their  work  of  slaughter  and 
destruction. 

"  Man 's  a  strange  animal,"  sings  the  poet, 
and  his  song  is  an  echo  of  truth. 

Pollard  and  Kilgariff  rode  on  until  the  camp 
was  reached.  There  Kilgariff  pushed  his  horse 
at  once  to  the  tent  of  the  surgeon,  and  delivered 
the  girl  into  that  officer's  keeping. 

"  Quick !  "  he  said.  "  I  fear  she  is  terribly 
wounded." 

"  No,  no,"  cried  the  girl ;  "  I  am  not  hurt. 
It  is  only  that  my  corsage  is  —  what  you  call 
stricken.  Is  it  that  that  is  the  word  ?  No  ? 
Then  what  shall  I  say  ?  It  is  only  that  the 
bullet  hurt  what  you  call  my  stays.  Truly  it 
did  not  touch  me." 

Just  then  Captain  Pollard  observed  that  Kil- 
gariffs  left  hand  was  wrapped  in  a  piece  torn 
from  the  front  of  the  girl's  gown,  and  that  the 
rude  bandage  was  saturated  with  blood.  Con 
trary  to  all  military  rule,  the  sergeant-major  had 
been  holding  his  reins  in  his  right  hand,  and 
carrying  the  girl  in  the  support  of  his  left  arm. 
22 


A   STRICKEN   CORSAGE 

This  awkwardness,  as  he  was  at  pains  to  explain 
to  the  captain,  had  been  brought  about  by  the 
hurry  of  necessity. 

"  I  grabbed  the  girl,"  he  explained,  "  without 
a  thought  of  anything  but  the  danger  to  her. 
The  house  timbers  were  already  falling,  and 
there  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  When  I  got  to 
my  horse,  the  fire  of  the  sharp-shooters  was  too 
severe  to  be  trifled  with  when  I  had  a  girl  to 
protect,  so  I  mounted  from  the  right  side  of 
my  horse  instead  of  the  left,  and  continued  to 
ride  with  her  on  my  left  arm  and  my  bridle- 
rein  in  my  right  hand.  I  make  my  apologies, 
Captain." 

"  Oh,  confound  your  apologies !  "  ejaculated 
Captain  Pollard.  "What's  the  matter  with 
your  left  hand?  Let  the  surgeon  see  it  at 
once." 

"  It  is  nothing  of  consequence,"  answered  the 
young  man,  stripping  off  the  rudely  improvised 
bandage.  "  Only  the  ends  of  a  finger  or  two 
carried  away.  I  had  thought  until  a  moment 
ago  that  the  bullet  had  penetrated  the  young 
lady's  body.  You  see,  Captain,  I  was  holding 
her  in  front  of  me  and  clasping  her  closely 
.around  the  waist  with  my  fingers  extended,  the 
23 


EVELYN  BTRD 

better  to  hold  her  in  her  uncertain  seat  on  the 
withers.  So,  when  the  bullet  struck  my  fingers, 
I  thought  it  had  pierced  her  person.  Thank 
God,  she  has  come  off  safe !  But  by  the  time 
the  surgeon  is  through  with  his  work  on  my  fin 
gers,  I  shall  have  to  use  my  right  hand  on  the 
bridle  for  a  considerable  time  to  come,  Captain." 

"You  will  have  to  go  to  the  hospital,"  said 
the  surgeon. 

"  Indeed  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"Why  not,  Kilgariff  ?  "  asked  Pollard,  who 
had  become  mightily  interested  in  the  strange 
and  strangely  reserved  young  man  whom  he  had 
made  his  sergeant-major. 

"Why  not?  Why,  because  I'm  not  going  to 
miss  the  greatest  and  probably  the  last  cam 
paign  of  the  greatest  war  of  all  time." 

As  he  spoke,  the  captain  turned  away  toward 
his  tent,  leaving  Kilgariff  to  endure  the  painful 
operations  of  the  surgeon  upon  his  wounded 
hand,  without  chloroform,  for  there  was  none  of 
that  anaesthetic  left  among  the  supplies  of  this 
meagrely  furnished  field-hospital  after  the  work 
already  done  upon  the  wounded  men  of  that 
morning.  Kilgariff  endured  the  amputations 
without  a  groan  or  so  much  as  a  flinching, 
24 


A  STRICKEN  CORSAGE 

whereat  the  surgeon  marvelled  the  more,  seeing 
that  the  patient  was  a  man  of  exceptionally  ner 
vous  constitution  and  temperament.  When  the 
bandages  were  all  in  place,  the  sergeant-major 
said  simply  :  — 

"  Please  let  me  have  a  stiff  drink  of  spirits, 
Doctor.  I  am  a  trifle  inclined  to  faintness  after 
the  pain."  That  was  absolutely  the  only  sign 
the  man  gave  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
enduring  torture  for  nearly  a  half-hour. 

Relighting  his  pipe,  which  he  had  smoked 
throughout  the  painful  operation,  Kilgariff  bade 
the  doctor  good  morning,  and  walked  away  to 
the  tent  which  he  and  the  captain  together 
occupied. 

In  the  meantime  Captain  Pollard  had  been 
questioning  the  girl  as  to  herself,  and  getting 
no  satisfactory  answers  from  her,  not  so  much 
because  of  any  unwillingness  on  her  part  to  give 
an  account  of  herself,  as  seemingly  because  she 
either  did  not  understand  the  questions  put  to 
her,  or  did  not  know  what  the  answers  to  them 
ought  to  be. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Captain,"  said  Kilgariff, 
when  Pollard  had  briefly  suggested  the  situation 
to  him,  "  Doctor  Brent  is  at  Orange  Court 
25 


EVELYN  BTRD 

House,  I  hear,  reorganising  the  field-hospital 
service  for  the  coming  campaign,  and  his  wife 
is  with  him.  Why  not  send  the  girl  to  her  ?  " 

"  To  Dorothy  ?  Yes,  I  '11  send  her  to  Doro 
thy.  She  will  know  what  to  do." 

He  hastily  summoned  an  ambulance  for  the 
girl  to  ride  in,  and  still  more  hastily  scribbled  a 
note  to  Dorothy  Brent — to  her  who  had  been 
Dorothy  South  in  the  days  of  her  maidenhood 
before  the  war.  In  it  he  said  :  — 

I  am  sending  you,  under  escort,  a  girl  whom  my 
sergeant-major  most  daringly  rescued  this  morning 
from  a  house  on  the  enemy's  side  of  the  river,  after 
we  had  shelled  and  set  fire  to  the  place.  She  seems 
too  badly  scared,  or  too  something  else,  for  me  to  find 
out  anything  about  her.  You,  with  your  womanly 
tact,  will  perhaps  be  able  to  gain  her  confidence  and 
find  out  what  should  be  done.  If  she  has  friends  at 
the  North  to  whom  she  should  be  returned,  I  will 
arrange  with  General  Stuart  to  send  her  back  across 
the  river  under  a  flag  of  truce.  If  she  has  n't  any 
friends,  or  if  for  any  other  reason  she  should  be  kept 
within  our  lines,  you  will  know  what  to  do  with  her. 
I  am  helpless  in  such  a  case,  and  I  earnestly  invoke 
the  aid  of  the  very  wisest  woman  I  ever  knew. 
When  you  see  the  girl  —  poor,  innocent  child  that 
26 


A   STRICKEN  CORSAGE 

she  is  —  you,  who  were  once  yourself  a  child,  and 
who,  in  growing  older,  have  lost  none  of  the  sweet 
ness  and  especially  none  of  the  moral  courage  of 
childhood,  will  be  interested,  I  am  very  sure,  in  tak 
ing  charge  of  her  for  her  good. 

Having  despatched  this  note,  and  the  girl, 
under  escort,  Pollard  turned  to  Kilgariff,  and 
abruptly  asked  :  — 

"  Why  did  you  call  this  coming  campaign 
'  the  greatest  and  probably  the  last  campaign ' 
of  the  war?" 

"  Why,  all  that  seems  obvious.  The  Army  of 
the  Potomac  has  at  last  found  a  commander 
who  knows  how  to  handle  it,  and  both  sides  are 
tired  of  the  war.  Grant  is  altogether  a  different 
man  from  McClellan,  or  Pope,  or  McDowell,  or 
Burnside,  or  Meade.  He  knows  his  business. 
He  knows  that  the  chief  remaining  strength  of 
the  Confederacy  lies  in  the  fighting  force  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  He  will  strike 
straight  at  that.  He  will  hurl  his  whole  force 
upon  us  in  an  effort  to  destroy  this  army. 
If  he  succeeds,  the  Confederacy  can't  last  even 
a  fortnight  after  that.  If  he  fails,  if  Lee  hurls 
him  back  across  the  Rapidan,  broken  and 
beaten  as  all  his  predecessors  have  been,  the 
27 


EVELYN  BTRD 

North  will  never  raise  another  army  —  if  the 
feeling  there  is  anything  like  what  the  Northern 
newspapers  represent  it  to  be.  You  see,  I  've 
been  reading  them  all  the  while  —  but,  pardon 
me,  I  meant  only  to  answer  your  question." 

"  Don't  apologise,"  answered  Pollard.  And 
he  wondered  who  this  man,  his  sergeant-major, 
was  —  whence  he  had  come,  and  how,  and  why. 
For  Captain  Marshall  Pollard  knew  absolutely 
nothing  about  the  man  whom  he  had  made  his 
confidential  staff-sergeant,  his  tent  mate,  his 
bedfellow,  and  the  executant  of  all  his  orders. 
Nevertheless,  he  trusted  him  implicitly.  "  I  do 
not  know  his  history,"  he  reflected,  "but  I  know 
his  quality  as  a  man  and  a  soldier." 


28 


II 

OWEN   KILGARIFF 

THE  relations  between  Pollard  and  Kil- 
gariff  were  peculiar.     In  many  ways 
they  were  inexplicable  except  upon  the 
ground   of   instinctive    sympathy  between   two 
men,  each  of  whom  recognised  the  other  as  a 
gentleman ;    both  of  whom  were   possessed   of 
scholarly  tastes  combined  with  physical  vigour 
and  all  that  is  possible  of  manliness ;    both  of 
whom  loved  books  and  knew  them  intimately ; 
and  each  of  whom  recognised  in  the  other  some 
what  more  than  is  common  of  intellectual  force. 
The  history  of  their  acquaintance  had  been 
quite  unusual.     Marshall  Pollard  had  risen  from 
the  ranks  to  be  now  the  captain  of  a  battery 
originally  organised  and  commanded  by  Captain 
Skinner,  a  West  Point   graduate  who   had   re 
signed  from  the  United  States  army  many  years 
before  the  war,  but  not  until  after  he  had  seen 
much  service  in  Mexico  and  in  Indian  warfare. 
29 


EVELYN  BTRD 

The  battery  had  been  composed  at  the  outset 
of  ruffians  from  the  purlieus  of  Richmond,  jail 
birds,  wharf-rats,  beach-combers,  men  pardoned 
out  of  the  penitentiary  on  condition  of  their  en 
listment,  and  the  friends  and  associates  of  such 
men.  It  had  been  a  fiercely  fighting  battery 
from  the  beginning.  Slowly  but  surely  many  of 
the  men  who  had  originally  constituted  it  had 
been  killed  in  battle,  and  Virginia  mountaineers 
had  been  enlisted  to  fill  their  places.  In  the 
meanwhile  discipline  of  the  rigidest  military  sort 
had  wrought  a  wonderful  change  for  the  better 
in  such  of  the  men  as  survived  from  the  original 
organisation.  By  the  time  that  the  battery  re 
turned  to  Virginia,  after  covering  itself  with 
glory  at  Gettysburg,  it  was  no  longer  a  company 
of  ruffians  and  criminals,  but  it  continued  to 
maintain  its  reputation  for  desperate  fighting 
and  for  cool,  self-contained,  and  unfaltering 
courage.  For  those  mountaineers  of  Virginia 
were  desperately  loyal  to  the  fighting  traditions 
of  their  race. 

During  the  winter  of  1863-4  Captain  Pollard's 

battery  was  stationed  at  Lindsay's  Turnout,  on 

the  Virginia  Central  Railroad  a  few  miles  west 

of   Gordonsville.     Indescribable,  almost   incon- 

30 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

ceivable  mud  was  the  characteristic  of  thai 
winter,  and  General  Lee  had  taken  advantage 
of  it,  and  of  the  complete  veto  it  placed  upon 
even  the  smallest  military  operations,  to  retire 
the  greater  part  of  his  army  from  the  Rappa- 
hannock  and  the  Rapidan  to  the  railroads  in  the 
rear,  where  it  was  possible  to  feed  the  men  and 
the  horses,  at  least  in  some  meagre  fashion. 

It  was  during  this  stay  in  winter  quarters  that 
Owen  Kilgariff  had  come  to  the  battery. 
Whence  he  came,  or  how  he  got  there,  nobody 
knew  and  nobody  could  guess.  There  were  only 
two  trains  a  day  on  the  railroad  ;  one  going  east, 
and  the  other  going  west.  It  was  the  duty  of 
strong  guards  from  Pollard's  battery  to  man  the 
station  whenever  a  train  arrived  and  inspect  the 
passports  of  every  passenger  who  descended  from 
the  cars  to  the  platform  or  passed  from  the  plat 
form  to  the  cars.  Owen  Kilgariff  had  not  come 
by  any  of  the  trains.  That  much  was  absolutely 
certain,  and  nobody  knew  any  other  way  by  which 
he  could  have  come.  Yet  one  evening  he  ap 
peared  in  Pollard's  battery  at  retreat  roll-call  and 
stood  looking  on  and  listening  while  the  orders 
for  the  night  were  being  read  to  the  men. 

He  was  a  singularly  comely  young  man  of 
31 


EVELYN  BTRD 

thirty  years,  or  a  little  less  —  tall,  rather  slen 
der,  though  very  muscular,  symmetrical  in  an 
unusual  degree,  and  carrying  his  large  and 
well-shaped  head  with  the  ease  and  grace  of  a 
trained  athlete. 

When  the  military  function  was  ended  and 
the  men  had  broken  ranks,  Kilgariff  approached 
Captain  Pollard,  and  with  a  faultlessly  correct 
military  salute  said  :  — 

"  Captain,  I  crave  your  permission  to  pass 
the  night  with  some  of  your  men.  In  the 
morning  I  think  I  shall  ask  you  to  enlist  me  in 
your  battery." 

There  was  something  in  the  man's  speech 
and  manner  which  strongly  appealed  to  Mar 
shall  Pollard's  sympathy  and  awakened  his 
respect. 

"  You  shall  be  my  own  personal  guest  for  the 
night,"  he  said ;  "  I  can  offer  you  some  bacon 
and  corn  bread  for  supper,  and  a  bundle  of  dry 
broom-straw  grass  to  sleep  upon.  As  for  en 
listment,  we  '11  talk  further  about  that  in  the 
morning." 

The  evening  passed  pleasantly.  The  stranger 
was  obviously  a  gentleman  to  his  finger  tips. 
He  conversed  with  rare  intelligence  and  inter- 
32 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

est,  upon  every  subject  that  happened  to  arise 
among  the  officers  who  were  accustomed  to 
gather  in  the  captain's  hut  every  evening,  mak 
ing  a  sort  of  club  of  his  headquarters.  Inci 
dentally  some  one  made  reference  during  the 
evening  to  some  reported  Japanese  custom. 
Instantly  but  very  modestly  Kilgariff  said :  — 

"  Pardon  me,  but  that  is  one  of  many  misap 
prehensions  concerning  the  Japanese.  They 
have  no  such  custom.  The  notion  arose  origi 
nally  out  of  a  misunderstanding — a  misinter 
pretation;  it  got  into  print,  and  has  been 
popularly  accepted  ever  since.  Let  me  tell 
you,  if  you  care  to  listen,  what  the  facts  really 
are." 

Then  he  went  on,  by  eager  invitation,  to  talk 
long  and  interestingly  about  Japan  and  the 
Japanese  —  matters  then  very  slightly  known  — 
speaking  all  the  while  with  the  modest  confi 
dence  of  one  who  knows  his  subject,  but  who 
is  in  no  sense  disposed  to  display  the  extent  of 
his  knowledge. 

Finally,  inquiry  brought  out  the  modestly  re 
luctant  information  that  Kilgariff  had  been  a 
member  —  though  he  avoided  saying  in  what 
capacity  —  of  Commodore  Perry's  expedition 
33 


EVELYN  BTRD 

which  compelled  the  opening  of  the  Japanese 
ports,  and  that  instead  of  returning  with  the 
expedition,  he  had  somehow  quitted  it  and 
made  his  way  into  the  interior  of  the  hermit 
empire,  where  he  had  passed  a  year  or  two  in 
minute  exploration. 

All  this  was  drawn  out  by  questioning  only, 
and  in  no  case  did  Kilgariff  go  beyond  the  ques 
tion  asked,  to  volunteer  information.  Especially 
he  avoided  speaking  of  himself  or  of  his  achieve 
ments  at  any  point  in  his  conversation.  He 
would  say,  "An  American"  did  this,  "An  Eng 
lish-speaking  man  "  saw  that,  "  A  foreigner  had 
an  experience,"  and  so  forth.  The  first  personal 
pronoun  singular  was  almost  completely  absent 
from  his  conversation. 

One  of  the  lieutenants  was  a  Frenchman,  and 
to  him  Kilgariff  spoke  in  French  whenever  that 
officer  seemed  at  a  loss  to  understand  a  state 
ment  made  in  English.  The  surgeon  was  a 
German,  and  with  him  Kilgariff  talked  in  Ger 
man  about  scientific  matters,  and  in  such  fashion 
that  the  doctor  said  to  Pollard  next  morning :  — 

"It  is  that  this  man  an  accomplished  physi 
cian  is,  or  I  mightily  mistaken  am  already." 

In    the     morning    Owen    Kilgariff    warmly 

34 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

thanked  Captain  Pollard  for  his  entertainment, 
adding :  — 

"  As  one  gentleman  with  another,  you  have 
been  free  to  offer,  and  I  free  to  accept,  your 
hospitality.  Be  very  sure  that  I  shall  not  pre 
sume  upon  this  after  I  become  a  common  soldier 
under  your  command,  as  I  intend  to  do  this 
morning  if  I  have  your  permission." 

Pollard  protested  that  his  battery  was  not  a 
proper  one  for  a  man  of  Kilgariff's  culture  and 
refinement  to  enlist  in,  explaining  that  such  of 
the  men  as  were  not  ex-criminals  were  illiterate 
mountaineers,  wholly  unfit  for  association  on 
equal  terms  with  him.  For  answer,  Kilgariff 
said :  — 

"  I  am  told  that  you  yourself  enlisted  here, 
Captain,  when  the  conditions  were  even  less 
alluring  than  now." 

"Well,  yes,  certainly.  But  my  case  was 
peculiar." 

"  Perhaps  mine  is  equally  so,"  answered  the 
man.  "  At  any  rate,  I  very  much  want  to 
enlist  under  your  command,  in  a  battery  that, 
as  I  learn,  usually  manages  to  get  into  the 
thick  of  every  fight  and  to  stay  there  to  the 
end." 

35 


EVELYN  BTRD 

A  question  was  on  Pollard's  lips,  which  he 
greatly  wanted  to  ask,  but  he  dared  not.  With 
the  instinctive  shrinking  of  a  gentleman  from 
the  impertinence  of  personal  questioning,  Pollard 
found  it  impossible  to  ask  this  man  how  it  hap 
pened  that  he  was  not  already  a  soldier  some 
where.  And  yet  the  matter  was  one  which  very 
naturally  prompted  questioning.  The  Confed 
erate  conscription  laws  had  long  ago  brought  into 
the  army  every  able-bodied  man  in  the  South 
How  happened  it,  then,  that  this  man  of  twenty- 
eight  or  thirty  years  of  age,  perfect  in  physique, 
had  managed  to  avoid  service  until  this  fourth 
year  of  the  war  ?  And  how  was  it,  that  one  so 
manifestly  eager  now  for  service  of  the  most 
active  kind  had  been  willing  to  keep  out  of  the 
army  for  so  long  a  time  ? 

As  if  divining  the  thought  which  Captain 
Pollard  could  not  bring  himself  to  formulate, 
Kilgariff  said  :  — 

"  Some  day,  perhaps,  I  shall  be  able  to  tell 
you  how  and  why  it  is  that  I  am  not  already 
a  soldier.  At  present  I  cannot.  But  I  assure 
you,  on  my  honour  as  a  gentleman,  that  there 
is  absolutely  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  your 
enlistment  of  me  in  your  command.  I  ear- 
36 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

nestly  ask  you  to  accept  me  as  one  of  your  can- 
noniers." 

Accordingly,  the  man  was  enrolled  as  a  pri 
vate  in  the  battery,  and  from  that  hour  he  never 
once  presumed  upon  the  acquaintance  he  had 
been  privileged  to  form  with  the  officers.  With 
a  scrupulosity  greater  than  was  common  even 
in  that  rigidly  disciplined  command,  he  ob 
served  the  distinction  between  officers  and 
enlisted  men.  His  behaviour  indeed  was  that 
of  one  bred  under  the  strict  surveillance  of 
martinet  professors  in  a  military  school.  He 
did  all  his  military  duties  of  whatever  kind  with 
a  like  attention  to  every  detail  of  good  conduct ; 
always  obeying  like  a  soldier,  never  like  a  serv 
ant.  That  distinction  is  broad  and  very  impor 
tant  as  an  index  of  character. 

The  officers  liked  him,  and  Pollard  especially 
sought  him  out  for  purposes  of  conversation. 
The  men  liked  him,  too,  though  they  felt  in 
stinctively  that  he  was  their  superior.  Perhaps 
their  liking  for  him  was  in  large  part  due  to  the 
fact  £hat  he  never  asserted  or  in  any  wise  as 
sumed  his  superiority  —  never  recognised  it,  in 
fact,  even  by  implication. 

He  nearly  always  had  a  book  somewhere 
37 


EVELTN  BTRD 

about  his  person  —  a  book  borrowed  in  most 
cases,  but  bought  when  there  was  no  oppor 
tunity  to  borrow,  for  the  man  seemed  always  to 
have  money  in  plenty.  Now  and  then  he  would 
go  to  a  quartermaster  or  a  paymaster  with  a  gold 
piece  and  exchange  it  for  a  great  roll  of  the 
nearly  worthless  Confederate  notes.  These  he 
would  spend  for  books  or  whatever  else  he 
wanted. 

On  one  occasion,  when  the  men  of  the  battery 
had  been  left  for  thirteen  bitterly  cold  days  and 
nights  with  no  food  except  a  meagre  dole  of 
corn  meal,  Kilgariff  bought  a  farmer's  yoke  of 
oxen  that  had  become  stalled  in  the  muddy 
roadway  near  the  camp.  These  were  emphati 
cally  "lean  kine,"  and  their  flesh  would  make 
very  tough  beef,  but  the  toughest  beef  imagi 
nable  was  better  than  no  meat  at  all,  and  so 
Kilgariff  paid  what  looked  like  a  king's  ransom 
for  the  half-starved  and  wholly  "  stalled  "  oxen, 
got  two  of  the  men  who  had  had  experience  in 
such  work  to  slaughter  and  dress  them,  and 
asked  the  commissary-sergeant  to  distribute  the 
meat  among  the  men. 

The  next  day  he  exchanged  another  gold 
piece  for  Confederate  notes  enough  to  paper 
38 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

a  goodly  sized  wall,  and  the  men  rightly  guessed 
that  for  some  reason,  known  only  to  himself,  this 
stranger  among  them  carried  a  supply  of  gold 
coin  in  a  belt  buckled  about  his  waist.  But  not 
one  of  them  ever  ventured  to  ask  him  concern 
ing  the  matter.  He  was  clearly  not  a  man  to 
be  questioned  with  regard  to  his  personal  affairs. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Captain  Pollard,  who 
had  made  this  man  successively  corporal,  ser 
geant,  and  finally  sergeant-major,  solely  on 
grounds  of  obvious  fitness,  actually  knew  noth 
ing  about  him,  except  that  he  was  an  ideally 
good  soldier  and  a  man  of  education  and 
culture. 

Now  that  he  had  become  sergeant-major,  his 
association  with  the  captain  was  close  and  con 
stant.  The  two  occupied  the  same  tent  or  hut 
—  when  they  had  a  tent  or  hut  —  messed  to 
gether,  slept  together,  and  rode  side  by  side 
whithersoever  the  captain  had  occasion  to  go 
on  duty.  They  read  together,  too,  in  their  idle 
hours,  and  talked  much  with  each  other  about 
books,  men,  and  affairs.  But  never  once  did 
Captain  Pollard  ask  a  personal  question  of  his 
executive  sergeant  and  intimate  personal  asso 
ciate. 

39 


PA6E  E.  GOLSAN 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Nor  did  Kilgariff  ever  volunteer  the  smallest 
hint  of  information  concerning  himself,  either 
to  the  captain  or  to  anybody  else.  On  the  con 
trary,  he  seemed  peculiarly  to  shrink  even  from 
the  accidental  or  incidental  revelation  of  any 
thing  pertaining  to  himself. 

One  day,  in  winter  quarters,  a  gunner  was 
trying  to  open  a  shell  which  had  failed  to  ex 
plode  when  fired  from  the  enemy's  battery  into 
the  Confederate  lines.  The  missile  burst  while 
the  gunner  was  handling  it,  and  tore  off  the 
poor  fellow's  hand.  The  surgeon  had  ridden 
away  somewhither — nobody  knew  whither  — 
and  it  was  at  least  a  mile's  distance  to  the  near 
est  camp  where  a  surgeon  might  be  found. 
Meanwhile,  the  man  seemed  doomed  to  bleed 
to  death.  The  captain  was  hurriedly  wonder 
ing  what  to  do,  when  Kilgariff  came  quietly  but 
quickly,  pushed  his  way  through  the  group  of 
excited  men,  knotted  a  handkerchief,  and  deftly 
bound  it  around  the  wounded  man's  arm. 

"  Hold  that  firmly,"  he  said  to  a  corporal 
standing  by.  "Watch  the  stump,  and  if  the 
blood  begins  to  flow  again,  twist  the  loop  a 
trifle  tighter,  but  not  too  tight,  only  enough  to 
prevent  a  free  hemorrhage  —  bleeding,  I  mean." 
40 


OWEN  KILGAR1FF 

Then,  touching  his  cap  brim,  he  asked  the 
captain :  — 

"  May  I  go  to  the  surgeon's  tent  and  bring 
some  necessary  appliances?  I  think  I  may  save 
this  poor  fellow's  life,  and  there  is  no  time  to  be 
lost." 

The  captain  gave  permission,  of  course,  and 
a  few  minutes  later  Kilgariff  returned  with  a 
score  of  things  needed.  Kneeling,  he  ar 
ranged  them  on  the  ground.  Then  he  exam 
ined  the  wounded  man's  pulse,  and  with  a  look 
of  satisfaction  saturated  a  handkerchief  with 
chloroform  from  a  bottle  he  had  brought. 
He  then  turned  again  to  Captain  Pollard, 
saying :  — 

"  Will  you  kindly  hold  that  over  the  man's 
nose  and  mouth  ?  And  will  you  put  your  finger 
on  his  uninjured  wrist,  observing  the  pulse-beats 
carefully  ?  Tell  me,  please,  if  any  marked 
change  occurs." 

"Why,  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked 
the  captain. 

"  With  your  permission,  I  am  going  to  ampu 
tate  this  badly  shattered  wrist.  There  is  no 
time  to  be  lost." 

With  that,  he  set  to  work,  pausing  only  to 
41 


EVELYN  BTRD 

direct  one  of  the  corporals  to  keep  the  men 
back  and  prevent  too  close  a  crowding  around 
the  patient. 

With  what  seemed  to  Captain  Pollard  incred 
ible  quickness,  Kilgariff  amputated  the  arm 
above  the  wrist,  took  up  the  arteries,  and 
neatly  bandaged  the  wound.  Then  he  bade 
some  of  the  men  bear  the  patient  on  a  litter  to 
his  hut,  and  place  him  in  his  bunk.  He  re 
mained  by  the  poor  fellow's  side  until  the 
effects  of  shock  and  chloroform  had  subsided. 
Then  he  returned  to  his  quarters  quite  as  if 
nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  routine  had  hap 
pened. 

Captain  Pollard  had  seen  enough  of  field 
surgery  during  his  three  years  of  active  military 
service  to  know  that  Kilgariff's  work  in  this 
case  had  been  done  with  the  skill  of  an  expert, 
and  his  astonishment  over  this  revelation  of 
his  sergeant-major's  accomplishment  was  great. 
Nevertheless,  he  shrank  from  questioning  the 
man  about  the  matter,  or  saying  anything  to 
him  which  might  be  construed  as  an  implied 
question.  All  that  he  said  was  :  — 

"  I  thank  you,  Kilgariff,  and  congratulate 
you !  You  have  saved  a  good  man's  life  this 
42 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

day,  and  God  does  not  give  it  to  many  men  to 
do  that." 

"  I  hope  the  surgeon  will  find  my  work  satis 
factory,"  responded  the  sergeant-major.  "  Is 
there  any  soup  in  the  kettle,  Tom  ?"  —  address 
ing  the  coloured  cook.  "  Bring  me  a  cup  of  it, 
please." 

The  man's  nerves  had  gone  through  a  fearful 
strain,  of  course,  as  every  surgeon's  do  when  he 
performs  a  capital  operation,  and  the  captain 
saw  that  Kilgariff  was  exhausted.  He  offered 
to  send  for  a  drink  of  whiskey,  but  Kilgariff 
declined  it,  saying  that  the  hot  soup  was  quite 
all  he  needed.  The  bugle  blowing  the  retreat 
call  a  moment  later,  Kilgariff  went,  quite  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  to  call  the  roll  and 
deliver  the  orders  for  the  night. 

A  little  later  the  surgeon  returned  and  was 
told  what  had  happened.  After  looking  at  the 
bandages,  and  without  removing  them,  he  mut 
tered  something  in  German  and  walked  away 
to  the  captain's  quarters.  He  was  surgeon  to 
this  battery  only,  for  the  reason  that  the  com 
pany  was  for  the  time  detached  from  its  bat 
talion,  and  must  have  a  medical  officer  of  its 
own. 

43 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Entering  the  captain's  quarters,  the  bluff  but 
emotional  German  doctor  grasped  Kilgariff's 
hand,  and  broke  forth :  — 

"It  is  that  you  are  a  brother  then  as  well  as 
a  frient  already.  Why  then  haf  you  not  to  me 
that  you  are  a  surgeon  told  it?  Ach  !  I  haf 
myself  that  you  speak  the  German  forgot.  It 
is  only  in  the  German  that  I  can  what  I  wish  to 
tell  you  say." 

Then  in  German  the  excited  doctor  went  on 
to  lavish  praise  upon  the  younger  man  for  his 
skill.  Presently  the  captain,  seeing  how  sorely 
Kilgariff  was  embarrassed  by  the  encomiums, 
came  to  his  relief  by  asking  :  — 

"  Have  you  taken  off  the  bandages,  Doctor, 
and  examined  the  wound  ?  " 

"  Shade  of  Esculapius,  NO !  What  am  I, 
that  I  should  with  such  a  bandaging  tamper  ? 
One  glance — one,  what  you  call,  look  —  quite 
enough  tells  me.  This  the  work  of  a  master  is 
—  it  is  not  the  work  with  which  for  me  to  inter 
fere.  The  man  who  those  bandages  put  on, 
that  man  knows  what  the  best  masters  can 
teach.  It  is  not  under  the  bandages  that  I 
need  to  look  to  find  out  that.  Ach,  Herr  Ser 
geant-major,  I  to  you  my  homage  offer.  Five 
44 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

years  I  in  the  hospitals  of  Berlin  am,  and 
four  years  in  Vienna.  In  the  army  of  Aus 
tria  I  am  surgeon  for  six  years.  Do  I  not 
know  ? " 

Then  the  doctor  began  to  question  Kilgariff 
in  German,  to  the  younger  man's  sore  embar 
rassment.  But,  fortunately  for  his  reserve,  Kil 
gariff  had  the  German  language  sufficiently  at 
his  command  to  parry  every  question,  and  when 
tattoo  sounded,  the  excited  surgeon  returned  to 
his  own  quarters,  still  muttering  his  astonish 
ment  and  admiration. 

In  the  morning  Captain  Pollard  asked  Kil 
gariff  to  ride  with  him,  in  order  that  they  two 
might  the  better  talk  together.  But  even  on 
horseback  Pollard  found  it  difficult  to  approach 
this  man  upon  any  subject  that  seemed  in  the 
least  degree  personal.  It  was  not  that  there 
was  anything  repellent,  anything  combative, 
and  still  less  anything  pugnacious  in  Kilgariff's 
manner ;  for  there  was  never  anything  of  the 
sort.  It  was  only  that  the  man  was  so  full  of 
a  gentle  dignity,  so  saturated  with  that  reserve 
which  a  gentleman  instinctively  feels  concern 
ing  his  own  affairs  that  no  other  gentleman 
wishes  to  intrude  upon  them. 
45 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Still,  Pollard  had  something  to  say  to  his  ser 
geant-major  on  this  occasion,  and  presently  he 
said  it :  — 

"  I  did  not  know  until  yesterday,"  he  began, 
"that  you  were  a  surgeon,  Kilgariff." 

"  Perhaps  I  should  not  call  myself  that,"  in 
terrupted  the  man,  as  if  anxious  to  forestall  the 
captain's  thought.  "  One  who  has  knocked 
about  the  world  as  much  as  I  have  naturally 
picks  up  a  good  many  bits  of  useful  information 
—  especially  with  regard  to  the  emergency  care 
of  men  who  get  themselves  hurt." 

"  Now  listen  to  me,  Kilgariff,"  said  Pollard, 
with  determination.  "  Don't  try  to  hoodwink 
me.  I  have  never  asked  you  a  question  about 
your  personal  affairs,  and  I  don't  intend  to  do  so 
now.  You  need  not  seek  by  indirection  to  mis 
lead  me.  I  shall  not  ask  you  whether  you  are  a 
surgeon  or  not.  There  is  no  need.  I  have  seen 
too  much  with  my  own  eyes,  and  I  have  heard 
too  much  from  our  battery  surgeon  as  to  your 
skill,  to  believe  for  one  moment  that  it  is  of 
the  '  jack-at-all-trades  '  kind.  But  I  ask  you  no 
questions.  I  respect  your  privacy,  as  I  demand 
respect  for  my  own.  But  I  want  to  say  to  you 
that  this  army  is  badly  in  need  of  surgeons, 
46 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

especially  surgeons  whose  skill  is  greater  than 
that  of  the  half-educated  country  doctors,  many 
of  whom  we  have  been  obliged  to  commission 
for  want  of  better-equipped  men.  I  learn  this 
from  my  friend  Doctor  Arthur  Brent,  who  tells 
me  he  is  constantly  embarrassed  by  his  inability 
to  find  really  capable  and  experienced  surgeons 
to  do  the  more  difficult  work  of  the  general  hos 
pitals.  He  said  to  me  only  a  week  ago,  when 
he  came  to  the  front  to  reorganise  the  medical 
service  for  this  year's  campaign,  that  '  many 
hundreds  of  gallant  men  will  die  this  summer 
for  lack  of  a  sufficient  number  of  highly  skilled 
surgeons.'  He  explained  that  while  we  have 
many  men  in  the  service  whose  skill  is  of  the 
highest,  we  have  not  nearly  enough  of  such  to 
fill  the  places  in  which  they  are  needed.  Now 
I  want  you  to  let  me  send  you  to  Doctor  Brent 
with  a  letter  of  introduction.  He  will  quickly 
procure  a  commission  for  you  as  a  major-sur 
geon.  It  isn't  fit  that  such  a  man  as  you 
should  waste  himself  in  the  position  of  a  non 
commissioned  officer." 

Not  until  he  had  finished  the  speech  did  Pol 
lard  turn  his  eyes  upon  his  companion's  face. 
Then  he  saw  it  to  be  pale  —  almost  cadaverous. 
47 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Obviously  the  man  was  undergoing  an  agonis 
ing  struggle  with  himself. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Kilgariff,"  hastily  spoke 
Captain  Pollard,  "if  I  have  said  anything  to 
wound  you  ;  I  could  not  know  —  " 

"  It  is  not  that,"  responded  the  sergeant- 
major.  But  he  added  nothing  to  the  declara 
tion  for  a  full  minute  afterward,  during  which 
time  he  was  manifestly  struggling  to  control 
himself.  Finally  recovering  his  calm,  he  said:  — 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Captain,  and  I  thank 
you  for  it.  But  I  cannot  accept  your  offer  of 
service.  I  must  remain  as  I  am.  I  ought  to 
have  remained  a  private,  as  I  at  first  intended. 
It  is  very  ungracious  in  me  not  to  tell  you  the 
wherefore  of  this,  but  I  cannot,  and  your  al 
ready  demonstrated  respect  for  my  privacy  will 
surely  forbid  you  to  resent  a  reserve  concerning 
myself  which  I  am  bound  to  maintain.  If  you 
do  resent  it,  or  if  it  displeases  you  in  the  least, 
I  beg  you  to  accept  my  resignation  as  your 
sergeant-major,  and  let  me  return  to  my  place 
among  the  men  as  a  private  in  the  battery." 

"  No,"  answered  Pollard,  decisively.  "  If  the 
army  cannot  have  the  advantage  of  your  service 
in  any  higher  capacity,  I  certainly  shall  not  let 
48 


OWEN  KILGARIFF 

myself  lose  your  intelligence  and  devotion  as 
my  staff-sergeant.  Believe  me,  Kilgariff,  I 
spoke  only  for  your  good  and  the  good  of  the 
service." 

"  I  quite  understand,  Captain,  and  I  thank 
you.  But  with  your  permission  we  will  let 
matters  remain  as  they  are." 

All  this  occurred  about  a  week  before  the 
events  related  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  story. 


49 


Ill 

EVELYN    BYRD 

WHEN  the  girl  whom  Kilgariff  had 
rescued  from  the  burning  building 
was  delivered  into  Dorothy  Brent's 
hands,  that  most  gracious  of  gentlewomen  re 
ceived  her  quite  as  if  her  coming  had  been 
expected,  and  as  if  there  had  been  nothing 
unusual  in  the  circumstances  that  had  led  to 
her  visit.  Dorothy  was  too  wise  and  too  con 
siderate  to  question  the  frightened  girl  about 
herself  upon  her  first  arrival.  She  saw  that 
she  was  half  scared  and  wholly  bewildered  by 
what  had  happened  to  her,  added  to  which  her 
awe  of  Dorothy  herself,  stately  dame  that  the 
very  young  wife  of  Doctor  Brent  seemed  in  her 
unaccustomed  eyes,  was  a  circumstance  to  be 
reckoned  with. 

"  I  must  teach  her  to  love  me  first,"  thought 
Dorothy,  with   the    old    straightforwardness  of 
mind.      "  Then  she  will  trust  me." 
50 


EVELYN  BTRD 

So,  after  she  had  hastily  read  Pollard's  note 
and  characterised  it  as  "  just  like  a  man  not  to 
find  out  the  girl's  name,"  she  took  the  poor, 
frightened,  fawnlike  creature  in  her  arms,  say 
ing,  with  caresses  that  were  genuine  inspira 
tions  of  her  nature  :  — 

"  Poor,  dear  girl !  You  have  had  a  very  hard 
day  of  it.  Now  the  first  thing  for  you  to  do  is 
to  rest.  So  come  on  up  to  my  room.  You  shall 
have  a  refreshing  little  bath  —  I  '11  give  it  to  you 
myself  with  Mammy's  aid  —  and  then  you  shall 
go  regularly  to  bed." 

"  But,"  queried  the  doubting  girl,  "  is  it  per 
mitted  to —  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  you  are  faint  with  hunger, 
and  you  shall  have  your  breakfast  as  soon  as 
Dick  can  get  it  ready.  Queer,  is  n't  it,  to  take 
breakfast  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  ? 
But  you  shall  have  it  in  bed,  with  nobody  to 
bother  you.  Fortunately  we  have  some  coffee, 
and  Dick  is  an  expert  in  making  coffee.  I 
taught  him  myself.  I  don't  know,  of  course,  how 
much  or  how  little  experience  you  have  had 
with  servants,  but  I  have  always  found  that 
when  I  want  them  to  do  things  in  my  way,  I 
must  take  all  the  trouble  necessary  to  teach 
51 


EVELYN  BTRD 

them   what   ray   way  is.      Get  her   shoes    and 
stockings  off  quick,  Mammy." 

"  I  have  had  little  to  do  with  servants,"  said 
the  girl,  simply,  "and  so  I  don't  know." 

"  Did  n't  you  ever  have  a  dear  old  mammy  ? 
queried   Dorothy,  thus  asking  the  first  of  the 
questions  that  must  be  asked  in  order  to  dis 
cover  the  girl's  identity. 

"No — yes.  I  don't  know.  You  see,  they 
made  me  swear  to  tell  nothing.  I  must  n't  tell 
after  that,  must  I  ?  " 

"  No,  you  dear  girl ;  no.  You  need  n't  tell 
me  anything.  I  was  only  wondering  what  girls 
do  when  they  have  n't  a  good  old  mammy  like 
mine  to  coddle  them  and  regulate  them  and 
make  them  happy.  Why,  you  can't  imagine 
what  a  bad  girl  I  should  have  been  if  I  had  n't 
had  Mammy  here  to  scold  me  and  keep  me 
straight.  Can  she,  Mammy  ?  " 

"  Humph  !  "  ejaculated  the  old  coloured  nurse. 
"Much  good  my  scoldin'  o'  you  done  do,  Mis' 
Dorothy.  Dere  nebber  was  a  chile  so  cantan 
kerous  as  you  is  always  been  an'  is  to  dis  day. 
I  'd  be  'shamed  to  tell  dis  heah  young  lady  'bout 
your  ways  an'  your  manners.  Howsomever, 
she  kin  jedge  fer  herse'f,  seein'  as  she  fin's  you 
52 


EVELYN  BTRD 

heah  'mong  all  de  soldiers,  when  you  oughter 
be  at  Wyanoke  a-givin'  o'  dinin'-days,  an'  a-en- 
tertainin'  o'  yer  frien's.  I  'se  had  a  hard  time 
with  you,  Mis'  Dorothy,  all  my  life.  What  fer 
you  always  a-botherin'  'bout  a  lot  o'  sick  people 
an'  wounded  men,  jes'  as  yo'  done  do  'bout  dem 
no-'count  niggas  down  at  Wyanoke  when  dey 
done  gone  an'  got  deyselves  sick  ?  Ah,  well, 
I  spec  dat 's  what  ole  mammies  is  bawn  fer  — 
jes'  to  reg'late  dere  precious  chiles  when  de  're 
bent  on  habin'  dere  own  way  anyhow.  Don' 
you  go  fer  to  listen  to  Mis'  Dorothy  'bout  sich 
things,  nohow,  Mis' — what's  yer  name,  honey?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  tell,"  answered  the  girl, 
frightened  again,  apparently  ;  "  at  least,  not  cer 
tainly.  It  is  Evelyn  Byrd,  but  there  was  some 
thing  else  added  to  it  at  last,  and  I  don't  want 
to  tell  what  the  rest  of  it  is." 

"  Then  you  are  a  Virginian  ?  "  said  Dorothy, 
quickly,  surprised  into  a  question  when  she 
meant  to  ask  none. 

"I  think  so,"  said  the  girl;  "I'm  not  quite 
sure." 

She  looked  frightened  again,  and  Dorothy 
pursued  the  inquiry  no  further,  saying :  — 

"Oh,  we  won't  bother  about  that.     Evelyn 
53 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Byrd  is  name  enough  for  anybody  to  bear,  and 
it  is  thoroughly  Virginian.  Here  comes  your 
breakfast"  —  as  Dick  knocked  at  the  door  with 
a  tray  which  Mammy  took  from  his  hands  and 
herself  brought  to  the  bed  in  which  the  girl  had 
been  placed  after  her  bath.  "We  won't  bother 
about  anything  now.  Just  take  your  breakfast, 
and  then  try  to  sleep  a  little.  You  must  be 
utterly  worn  out." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  wistfully,  but  said 
nothing.  She  ate  sparingly,  but  apparently 
with  the  relish  of  one  who  is  faint  for  want  of 
food,  the  which  led  Dorothy  to  say  :  — 

"  It  was  just  like  a  man  to  send  you  on  here 
without  giving  you  something  to  eat." 

"You  are  very  good  to  me."  That  was  all 
the  girl  said  in  reply. 

When  she  had  rested,  Dorothy  sitting  sewing 
in  the  meanwhile,  the  girl  turned  to  her  hostess 
and  asked :  — 

"  Might  I  put  on  my  clothes  again,  now  ?  " 

"Why,  certainly.  Now  that  you  are  rested, 
you  are  to  do  whatever  you  wish." 

"  Am  I  ?  I  was  never  allowed  to  do  any 
thing  I  wished  before  this  time  —  at  least  not 
often." 

54 


EVELYN   BTRD 

The  remark  opened  the  way  for  questioning, 
but  Dorothy  was  too  discreet  to  avail  herself  of 
the  opportunity.  She  said  only  :  — 

"  Well,  so  long  as  you  stay  with  me,  Evelyn, 
you  are  to  do  precisely  as  you  please.  I  be 
lieve  in  liberty  for  every  one.  You  heard  what 
Mammy  said  about  me.  Dear  old  Mammy  has 
been  trying  to  govern  me  ever  since  I  was  born, 
and  never  succeeding,  simply  because  she  never 
really  wanted  to  succeed.  Don't  you  think 
people  are  the  better  for  being  left  free  to  do  as 
they  please  in  all  innocent  ways  ? " 

There  was  a  fleeting  expression  as  of  pained 
memory  on  the  girl's  face.  She  did  not  answer 
immediately,  but  sat  gazing  as  any  little  child 
might,  into  Dorothy's  face.  After  a  little,  she 
said  :  — 

"  I  don't  quite  know.  You  see,  I  know  so 
very  little.  I  think  I  would  like  best  to  do 
whatever  you  please  for  me  to  do.  Yes.  That 
is  what  I  would  like  best" 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  with  me  to  my  home, 
and  live  there  with  me  till  you  find  your 
friends  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  that,  yes.     But  I  think  I  have  n't 
any  friends  —  I  don't  know." 
55 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  Well,"  said  Dorothy,  "  sometime  you  shall 
tell  me  about  that  —  some  day  when  you  have 
come  to  love  me  and  feel  like  telling  me  about 
yourself." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  girl.  "I  think  I  love 
you  already.  But  I  must  n't  tell  anything  be 
cause  of  what  they  made  me  swear." 

"  We  '11  leave  all  that  till  we  get  to  Wyanoke," 
said  Dorothy.  "  Wyanoke,  you  should  know, 
is  Doctor  Brent's  plantation.  It  is  my  home. 
You  and  I  will  go  to  Wyanoke  within  a  day  or 
two.  Just  as  soon  as  my  husband,  Doctor 
Brent,  can  spare  me." 

The  girl  was  manifestly  losing  something  of 
her  timidity  under  the  influence  of  her  new 
found  trust  and  confidence  in  Dorothy,  and 
Dorothy  was  quick  to  discover  the  fact,  but 
cautious  not  to  presume  upon  it.  The  two 
talked  till  supper  time,  and  the  girl  accompa 
nied  her  hostess  to  that  meal,  where,  for  the  first 
time,  she  met  Arthur  Brent.  That  adept  in  the 
art  of  observation  so  managed  the  conversation 
as  to  find  out  a  good  deal  about  Evelyn  Byrd, 
without  letting  her  know  or  suspect  that  he  was 
even  interested  in  her.  He  asked  her  no  ques 
tions  concerning  herself  or  her  past,  but  drew 
56 


EVELYN  BTRD 

her  into  a  shy  participation  in  the  general  con 
versation.  That  night  he  said  to  Dorothy:  — 

"  That  girl  has  brains  and  a  character.  Both 
have  been  dwarfed,  or  rather  forbidden  develop 
ment,  whether  purposely  or  by  accidental  cir 
cumstances  I  cannot  determine.  You  will  find 
out  when  you  get  her  to  Wyanoke,  and  it  really 
does  n't  matter.  Under  your  influence  she  will 
grow  as  a  plant  does  in  the  sunshine.  I  almost 
envy  you  your  pupil." 

"  She  will  be  yours,  too,  even  more  than 
mine." 

"  After  a  while,  perhaps,  but  not  for  some 
time  to  come.  I  have  much  more  to  do  here 
than  I  thought,  and  shall  have  to  leave  the 
laboratory  work  at  Wyanoke  to  you  for  the 
present.  You  'd  better  set  out  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  The  railroads  are  greatly  overtaxed  just 
now,  as  General  Lee  is  using  every  car  he  can 
get  for  the  transportation  of  troops  and  supplies 
-  mainly  troops,  for  heaven  knows  there  are 
not  many  supplies  to  be  carried.  I  have  prom 
ised  the  surgeon-general  that  the  laboratory  at 
Wyanoke  shall  be  worked  to  its  full  capacity  in 
the  preparation  of  medicines  and  appliances,  so 
you  are  needed  there  at  once.  But  under  pres- 
57 


EVELYN  BTRD 

ent  conditions  it  is  better  that  you  travel  across 
country  in  a  carriage.  I  've  arranged  all  that. 
You  will  have  a  small  military  escort  as  far  as 
the  James  River.  After  that,  you  will  have  no 
need.  How  I  do  envy  you  the  interest  you  are 
going  to  feel  in  this  Evelyn  Byrd  !  " 


IV 

THE   LETTING    DOWN    OF   THE    BARS 

NOT  many  days  after  Pollard's  fruit 
less  talk  with  Kilgariff,  the  sergeant- 
major  asked  leave,  one  morning,  to 
visit  Orange  Court  House.  He  said  nothing  of 
his  purpose  in  going  thither,  and  Pollard  had 
no  impulse  to  ask  him,  as  he  certainly  would 
have  been  moved  to  ask  any  other  enlisted  man 
under  his  command,  especially  now  that  the 
hasty  movements  of  troops  in  preparation  for 
the  coming  campaign  had  brought  the  army 
into  a  condition  resembling  fermentation. 

When  Kilgariff  reached  the  village,  he  in 
quired  for  Doctor  Brent's  quarters,  and  presently 
dismounted  in  front  of  the  house  temporarily 
occupied  by  that  officer. 

As  he  entered  the  office,  Arthur  Brent  raised 
his  eyes,  and  instantly  a  look  of  amazed  recog 
nition  came  over  his  face.     Rising  and  grasping 
59 


EVELYN  BTRD 

his  visitor's  hand  —  though  that  hand  had  not 
been  extended  —  he  exclaimed:  — 

"Kilgariff!     You  here?" 

"Thank  you,"  answered  the  sergeant-major. 
"  You  have  taken  my  hand  —  which  I  did  not 
venture  to  offer.  That  means  much." 

"  It  means  that  I  am  Arthur  Brent,  and  glad 
to  greet  Owen  Kilgariff  once  more  in  the  flesh." 

"  It  means  more  than  that,"  answered  Kil 
gariff.  "  It  means  that  you  generously  believe 
in  my  innocence  —  jail-bird  that  I  am." 

"  I  have  never  believed  you  guilty,"  answered 
the  other. 

"  But  why  not  ?  The  evidence  was  all  against 
me." 

"  No,  it  was  not.  The  testimony  was.  But 
between  evidence  and  testimony  there  is  a 
world  of  difference." 

"Just  how  do  you  mean?" 

"  Well,  you  and  I  know  our  chemistry.  If  a 
score  of  men  should  swear  to  us  that  they  had 
seen  a  jet  of  oxygen  put  out  fire,  and  a  jet  of 
carbonic  acid  gas  rekindle  it  from  a  dying  coal, 
we  should  instantly  reject  their  testimony  in 
favour  of  the  evidence  of  our  own  knowledge. 
In  the  same  way,  I  have  always  rejected  the 
60 


LETTING  DOWN   THE  BARS 

testimony  that  convicted  you,  because  I  have, 
in  my  knowledge  of  you,  evidence  of  your  inno 
cence.  You  and  I  were  students  together  both 
in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  We  were  friends, 
roommates,  comrades,  day  and  night.  I  learned 
to  know  your  character  perfectly,  and  I  hold 
character  to  be  as  definite  a  fact  as  complexion 
is,  or  height,  or  anything  else.  I  had  the  evi 
dence  of  my  own  knowledge  of  you.  The  testi 
mony  contradicted  it.  Therefore  I  rejected  the 
testimony  and  believed  the  evidence." 

"  Believe  me,"  answered  Kilgariff,  "  I  am 
grateful  to  you  for  that.  I  did  not  expect  it.  I 
ought  to,  but  I  did  not.  If  I  had  reasoned  as 
soundly  as  you  do,  I  should  have  known  how 
you  would  feel.  But  I  am  morbid  perhaps. 
Circumstances  have  tended  to  make  me  so." 

"  Come  with  me  to  my  bedroom  upstairs," 
said  Arthur  Brent.  "  There  is  much  that  we 
must  talk  about,  and  we  are  subject  to  interrup 
tion  here." 

Then,  summoning  his  orderly,  Arthur  Brent 
gave  his  commands:  — 

"I  shall  be  engaged  with  Sergeant-major 
Kilgariff  upstairs  for  some  time  to  come,  and 
I  must  not  be  interrupted  on  any  account.  Say 
61 


EVELTN  BTRD 

so  to  all  who  may  ask  to  see  me,  and  peremp 
torily  refuse  to  bring  me  any  card  or  any  name 
or  any  message.  You  understand." 

Then,  throwing  his  arm  around  his  old  com 
rade's  person,  he  led  the  way  upstairs.  When 
the  two  were  seated,  Arthur  Brent  said  :  — 

"Tell  me  now  about  yourself.  How  comes 
it  that  you  are  here,  and  wearing  a  Confederate 
uniform  ? " 

"  Instead  of  prison  stripes,  eh  ?  It  is  simple 
enough.  By  a  desperate  effort  I  escaped  from 
Sing  Sing,  and  after  a  vast  deal  of  trouble  and 
some  hardship,  I  succeeded  in  making  my  way 
into  the  Confederate  lines.  Thinking  to  hide 
myself  as  completely  as  possible,  I  enlisted  in 
a  battery  that  has  no  gentlemen  in  its  ranks, 
but  has  a  habit  of  getting  itself  into  the  thick 
of  every  fight  and  staying  there.  You  know 
the  battery — Captain  Pollard's?" 

"  Marshall  Pollard's  ?  Yes.  He  is  one  of  my 
very  best  friends.  But  tell  me  — 

"  Permit  me  to  finish.  I  wanted  to  hide  my 
self.  I  thought  that  as  a  cannonier  in  such  a 
battery  I  should  escape  all  possibility  of  ob 
servation.  But  that  battery  has  very  little  ma 
terial  out  of  which  to  make  non-commissioned 
62 


LETTING   DOWN   THE   BARS 

officers.  Very  few  of  the  men  can  read  or 
write.  So  it  naturally  came  about  that  I  was 
put  into  place  as  a  non-commissioned  officer, 
and  I  am  now  sergeant-major,  greatly  to  my 
regret.  In  that  position  I  must  be  always  with 
Captain  Pollard.  When  I  learned  that  he  and 
you  were  intimates,  and  that  your  duty  often 
called  you  to  the  front,  I  saw  the  necessity  of 
coming  to  you  to  find  out  on  what  terms  you 
and  I  might  meet  after  —  well,  in  consideration 
of  the  circumstances." 

Arthur  Brent  waited  for  a  time  before  answer 
ing.  Then  he  stood  erect,  and  said  :  — 

"  Stand  up,  Owen,  and  let  me  look  you  in  the 
eyes.  I  have  not  asked  you  if  you  are  innocent 
of  the  crimes  charged  against  you.  I  never  shall 
ask  you  that.  I  know,  because  I  \uiQvr  you. r" 

"  I  thank  you,  Arthur,  for  putting  the  matter 
in  that  way.  But  it  is  due  to  you  —  due  to  your 
faith  in  me  —  that  I  should  voluntarily  say  to 
you  what  you  refuse  to  ask  me  to  say.  As  God 
sees  me,  I  am  as  innocent  as  you  are.  I  could 
have  established  my  innocence  at  the  critical 
time,  but  I  would  not.  To  do  that  would 
have  been  to  condemn  —  well,  it  would  have 
involved  —  " 

63 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  Never  mind  that.  I  understand.  You  made 
a  heroic  self-sacrifice.  Let  me  rejoice  only  in 
the  fact  that  you  are  free  again.  You  are 
enlisted  under  your  own  name  ? " 

"  Of  course.  I  could  never  take  an  alias.  It 
was  only  when  I  learned  that  you  and  Captain 
Pollard  were  friends  —  " 

"  But  suppose  you  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  ?  Suppose  you  are  made  prisoner  ?  " 

"I  shall  never  be  taken  alive,"  was  the 
response. 

"  But  you  may  be  wounded." 

"  I  am  armed  against  all  that,"  the  other 
replied.  "  I  have  my  pistols,  of  course.  I 
carry  an  extra  small  one  in  my  vest  pocket  for 
emergencies.  Finally,  I  have  these  "  —  drawing 
forth  two  little  metallic  cases,  one  from  the 
right,  the  other  from  the  left  trousers  pocket. 
"  They  are  filled  with  pellets  of  cyanide  of 
potassium.  I  carry  them  in  two  pockets  to 
make  sure  that  no  wound  shall  prevent  me 
getting  at  them.  I  shall  not  be  taken  alive. 
Even  if  that  should  happen,  however,  I  am 
armed  against  the  emergency.  Two  men  es 
caped  from  Sing  Sing  with  me.  One  of  them 
was  shot  to  death  by  the  guards,  his  face  being 
64 


LETTING  DOWN   THE  BARS 

fearfully  mutilated.  The  other  was  wounded 
and  captured.  The  body  of  the  dead  man  was 
identified  as  mine,  and  my  death  was  officially 
recorded.  I  do  not  think  the  law  of  New  York 
would  go  behind  that.  But  in  any  case,  I  am 
armed  against  capture,  and  I  shall  never  be 
taken  alive." 

A  little  later  Arthur  Brent  turned  the  con 
versation. 

"  Let  us  talk  of  the  future,"  he  said,  "not  of 
the  past.  I  am  reorganising  the  medical  staff 
for  the  approaching  campaign.  I  am  sorely  put 
to  it  to  find  fit  men  for  the  more  responsible 
places.  My  simple  word  will  secure  for  you  a 
commission  as  major-surgeon,  and  I  will  assign 
you  to  the  very  best  post  at  my  disposal.  I 
need  just  such  men  as  you  are  —  a  dozen,  a 
score,  yes,  half  a  hundred  of  them.  You  must 
put  yourself  in  my  hands.  I  '11  apply  for  your 
commission  to-day,  and  get  it  within  three  days 
at  most." 

"  If  you  will  think  a  moment,  Arthur,"  said 
the  other,  "  you  will  see  that  I  could  not  do 
that  without  dishonour.  Branded  as  I  am  with 
a  conviction  of  felony,  I  have  no  right  to  im 
pose  myself  as  a  commissioned  officer  upon 
65 


EVELYN  BTRD 

men  who  would  never  consent  to  associate  with 
me  upon  such  terms  if  they  knew." 

"I  respect  your  scruple,"  answered  Doctor 
Brent,  after  a  moment  of  reflection,  "but  I  do 
not  share  it.  In  the  first  place,  the  disability 
you  mention  is  your  misfortune,  not  your  fault. 
You  know  yourself  to  be  innocent,  and  as  you 
do  not  in  any  way  stand  accused  in  the  eyes  of 
the  officers  of  this  army,  there  is  absolutely  no 
reason  why  you  should  not  become  one  of  them, 
as  a  man  conscious  of  his  own  rectitude. 

"  Besides  all  that,  we  are  living  in  new  times, 
under  different  conditions  from  those  that  ex 
isted  before  the  war.  It  used  to  be  said  that  in 
Texas  it  was  taking  an  unfair  advantage  of 
any  man  to  inquire  into  his  life  before  his 
migration  to  that  State.  If  he  had  conducted 
himself  well  since  his  arrival  there,  he  was 
entitled  to  all  his  reserves  with  regard  to  his 
previous  course  of  life  in  some  other  part  of 
the  country.  Now  a  like  sentiment  has  grown 
strong  in  the  South  since  this  war  broke  out. 
I  don't  mean  to  suggest  that  we  have  lowered 
our  standards  of  honourable  conduct  in  the 
least,  for  we  have  not  done  so.  But  we  have 
revised  our  judgments  as  to  what  constitutes 
66 


LETTING   DOWN   THE  BARS 

worth.  The  old  class  distinctions  of  birth  and 
heritage  have  given  place  to  new  tests  of  pres 
ent  conduct.  There  are  companies  by  the 
score  in  this  army  whose  officers,  elected  by 
their  men,  were  before  the  war  persons  of 
much  lower  social  position  than  that  of  a 
majority  of  their  own  men.  In  any  peace 
time  organisation  these  officers  could  never  have 
hoped  for  election  to  office  of  any  kind;  but 
they  are  fighters  and  men  of  capacity ;  they 
know  how  to  do  the  work  of  war  well,  and, 
under  our  new  and  sounder  standards  of  fitness, 
the  men  in  the  ranks  have  put  aside  old  social 
distinctions  and  elected  to  command  them  the 
men  fittest  to  command.  The  same  prin 
ciple  prevails  higher  up.  One  distinguished 
major-general  in  the  Confederate  service  was  a 
nobody  before  the  war ;  another  was  far  worse  ; 
he  was  a  negro  trader  who  before  the  war 
would  not  have  been  admitted,  even  as  a  merely 
tolerated  guest,  into  the  houses  of  the  gentle 
men  who  are  to-day  glad  to  serve  as  officers 
and  enlisted  men  under  his  command.  Still 
another  was  an  ignorant  Irish  labourer  who 
did  work  for  day's  wages  in  the  employ  of 
some  of  the  men  to  whom  he  now  gives  orders, 
67 


EVELYN  BTRD 

and  from  whom  he  expects  and  receives  willing 
obedience.  I  tell  you,  Kilgariff,  a  revolution 
has  been  wrought  in  this  Southern  land  of  ours, 
and  the  results  of  that  revolution  will  perma 
nently  endure,  whatever  the  military  or  political 
outcome  of  the  war  may  be.  In  your  case  there 
is  no  need  to  cite  these  precedents,  except  to 
show  you  that  the  old  quixotism  —  it  was  a 
good  old  quixotism  in  its  way ;  it  did  a  world  of 
good,  together  with  a  very  little  of  evil  —  is 
completely  gone.  There  is  no  earthly  reason, 
Kilgariff,  why  you  should  not  render  a  higher 
and  better  service  to  the  Confederacy  than  that 
which  you  are  now  rendering.  There  is  no  rea 
son —  " 

"  Pardon  me,  Arthur ;  in  my  own  mind  there  is 
reason  enough.  And  besides,  I  am  thoroughly 
comfortable  as  I  am.  You  know  I  am  given  to 
being  comfortable.  You  remember  that  when 
you  and  I  were  students  at  Jena,  and  afterward 
in  the  Latin  Quarter  in  Paris,  I  was  always 
content  to  live  in  the  meagre  ways  that  other 
students  did,  though  I  had  a  big  balance  to  my 
credit  in  the  bank  and  a  large  income  at  home. 
As  sergeant-major  under  our  volunteer  system, 
I  am  the  intimate  associate  not  only  of  Captain 


LETTING   DOWN   THE   BARS 

Pollard,  whose  scholarship  you  know,  but  also 
of  all  the  battery  officers,  some  of  whom  are 
men  worth  knowing.  For  the  rest,  I  like  the 
actual  fighting,  and  I  am  looking  forward  to 
this  summer's  campaign  with  positively  eager 
anticipations.  So,  if  you  don't  mind,  we  will  let 
matters  stand  as  they  are.  I  will  remain  ser 
geant-major  till  the  end  of  it  all." 
With  that,  the  two  friends  parted. 


69 


V 

DOROTHY'S    OPINIONS 

IT  was  not  Arthur  Brent's  habit  to  rest  sat 
isfied  in  the  defeat  of  any  purpose.  He 
was  deeply  interested  to  induce  Owen 
Kilgariff  to  become  a  member  of  the  military 
medical  staff.  Having  exhausted  his  own  re 
sources  of  persuasion,  he  determined  to  consult 
Dorothy,  as  he  always  did  when  he  needed 
counsel.  That  night  he  sent  a  long  letter  to 
her.  In  it  he  told  her  all  he  knew  about  the 
matter,  reserving  nothing  —  he  never  practised 
reserve  with  her  —  but  asking  her  to  keep  Kil- 
gariff's  name  and  history  to  herself.  Having 
laid  the  whole  matter  before  that  wise  young 
woman,  he  frankly  asked  her  what  he  should 
do  further  in  the  case.  For  reply,  she  wrote  :  — 

I  am  deeply  interested  in  Kilgariff's  case.     I  have 

thought  all   day  and  nearly  all  night   about  it.      It 

seems  to  me  to  be  a  case  in  which  a  man  is  to  be 

saved  who  is  well  worth  saving.     Not  that  I  regard 

70 


DOROTHT'S   OPINIONS 

service  in  the  ranks  as  either  a  hardship  or  a  shame  to 
any  man,  when  the  ranks  are  full  of  the  best  young 
men  in  all  the  land.  If  that  were  all,  I  would  not 
have  you  turn  your  hand  over  to  lift  this  man  into 
place  as  a  commissioned  officer. 

If  I  interpret  the  matter  aright,  Kilgariff  is  simply 
morbid,  and  if  you  can  induce  him  to  take  the  place 
you  have  pressed  upon  him,  you  will  have  cured  him 
of  his  morbidity  of  mind.  And  I  think  you  can  do 
that.  You  know  how  I  contemn  the  duello,  and  for 
tunately  it  seems  passing  out  of  use.  In  these  war 
times,  when  every  man  stands  up  every  day  to  be 
shot  at  by  hundreds  of  men  who  are  not  scared,  it 
would  be  ridiculous  for  any  man  to  stand  up  and  let 
one  scared  man  shoot  at  him,  in  the  hope  of  demon 
strating  his  courage  in  that  fashion. 

That  is  an  aside.  What  I  want  to  say  is,  that  while 
the  duello  has  always  been  barbarous,  and  has  now 
become  ridiculous  as  well,  nevertheless  it  had  some 
good  features,  one  of  which  I  think  you  might  use 
effectively  in  Owen  Kilgariff 's  case.  As  I  understand 
the  matter,  it  was  the  custom  under  the  code  duello, 
sometimes  to  call  a  "  court  of  honour  "  to  decide  in  a 
doubtful  case  precisely  what  honour  required  a  man 
to  do,  and,  as  I  understand,  the  decision  of  such  a 
court  was  final,  so  far  as  the  man  whose  duty  was  in 
volved  was  concerned.  It  was  deemed  the  grossest 
of  offences  to  call  in  question  the  conduct  of  a  man 

71 


EVELTN  BTRD 

who  acted  in  accordance  with  the  finding  of  a  court 
of  honour. 

Now  why  cannot  you  call  a  court  of  honour  to  sit 
upon  this  case  ?  Without  revealing  Kilgariff's  iden 
tity —  which  of  course  you  could  not  do  except  by 
his  permission  —  you  could  lay  before  the  court  a  suc 
cinct  but  complete  statement  of  the  case,  and  ask  it 
to  decide  whether  or  not  the  man  concerned  can, 
with  honour,  accept  a  commission  in  the  service  with 
out  making  the  facts  public.  I  am  sure  the  verdict 
will  be  in  the  affirmative,  and  armed  with  such  a  de 
cision  you  can  overcome  the  poor  fellow's  scruples  and 
work  a  cure  that  is  well  worth  working. 

Try  my  plan  if  it  commends  itself  to  your  judg 
ment,  not  otherwise. 

Little  by  little,  I  am  finding  out  a  good  deal  about 
our  Evelyn  Byrd.  Better  still,  I  am  learning  to  know 
her,  and  she  interests  me  mightily.  She  has  a  white 
soul  and  a  mind  that  it  is  going  to  be  a  delight  to 
educate.  She  has  already  read  a  good  deal  in  a 
strangely  desultory  and  unguided  fashion,  but  her 
learning  is  utterly  unbalanced. 

For  example,  she  has  read  the  whole,  apparently, 
of  the  Penny  Cyclopedia  —  in  a  very  old  edition  — 
and  she  has  accepted  it  all  as  unquestionable  truth. 
Nobody  had  ever  told  the  poor  child  that  the  science 
of  thirty  years  ago  has  been  revised  and  enlarged  since 
that  time,  until  I  made  the  point  clear  to  her  singu- 
72 


DOROTHT'S   OPINIONS 

larly  quick  and  receptive  mind  in  the  laboratory  yes 
terday.  She  seems  also  to  have  read,  and  well-nigh 
committed  to  memory,  the  old  plays  published  fifty 
or  sixty  years  ago  under  the  title  of  The  British 
Drama,  but  she  has  hardly  so  much  as  heard  of  our 
great  modern  writers.  She  can  repeat  whole  dia 
logues  from  Jane  Shore,  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  A 
New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,  High  Life  Below  Stairs, 
and  many  plays  of  a  much  lower  moral  character ;  but 
even  the  foulest  of  them  have  manifestly  done  her  no 
harm.  Her  own  innocence  seems  to  have  performed 
the  function  of  the  feathers  on  a  duck's  back  in  a 
shower.  She  is  so  unconscious  of  evil,  indeed,  that  I 
do  not  care  to  explain  my  reasons  to  her  when  I  sug 
gest  that  she  had  better  not  repeat  to  others  some  of 
the  literature  that  she  knows  by  heart. 

I  still  have  n't  the  faintest  notion  of  her  history,  or 
of  whence  she  came.  She  is  docile  in  an  extraordi 
nary  degree,  but  I  think  that  is  due  in  large  measure  to 
her  exaggerated  sense  of  what  she  calls  my  goodness 
to  her.  Poor  child  !  It  is  certain  that  she  never  be 
fore  knew  much  of  liberty  or  much  of  considerate 
kindness.  She  seems  scarcely  able  to  realise,  or  even 
to  believe,  that  in  anything  she  is  really  free  to  do  as 
best  pleases  her,  a  fact  from  which  I  argue  that  she 
has  been  subject  always  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  others. 
She  is  by  no  means  lacking  in  spirit,  and  I  suspect 
that  those  others  who  have  arbitrarily  dominated  her 
73 


EVELYN  BTRD 

life  have  had  some  not  altogether  pleasing  experiences 
with  her.  She  is  capable  of  very  vigorous  revolt 
against  oppression,  and  her  sense  of  justice  is  alert. 
But  apparently  she  has  never  before  been  treated  with 
justice  or  with  any  regard  whatever  to  the  rights  of 
her  individuality.  She  has  been  compelled  to  submit 
to  the  will  of  others,  but  she  has  undoubtedly  made 
trouble  for  those  who  compelled  her.  At  first  with 
me  she  seemed  always  expecting  some  correction, 
some  assertion  of  authority,  and  she  is  only  now  be 
ginning  to  understand  my  attitude  toward  her,  espe 
cially  my  insistence  upon  her  right  to  decide  for  herself 
all  things  that  concern  only  herself.  The  other  day 
in  the  laboratory,  she  managed  somehow  to  drop  a 
beaker  and  break  it.  She  was  about  to  gather  up 
the  fragments,  but,  as  the  beaker  had  been  filled 
with  a  corrosive  acid,  I  bade  her  let  them  alone, 
saying  that  I  would  have  them  swept  up  after  the 
day's  work  should  be  done.  She  stood  staring  at 
me  for  a  moment,  after  which  she  broke  into  a  little 
rippling  laugh,  threw  her  arms  around  my  neck,  and 
said  :  — 

"  I  forgot.     You  never  scold  me,  even  when  I  am 
careless  and  break  things." 

I  tried  hard  to  make  her  understand  that  I  had  no 
right  to  scold  her,  besides  having  no  desire  to  do  so. 
It  seemed  a  new  gospel  to  her.     Finally  she  said, 
more  to  herself  than  to  me  :  — 
74 


DOROTHT'S   OPINIONS 

"  It  is  so  different  here.  There  was  never  anybody 
so  good  to  me." 

Her  English  is  generally  excellent,  but  it  includes 
many  odd  expressions,  some  of  them  localisms,  I 
think,  though  I  do  not  know  whence  they  come.  Oc 
casionally,  too,  she  frames  her  English  sentences  after 
a  French  rhetorical  model,  and  the  result  is  sometimes 
amusing.  And  another  habit  of  hers  which  interests 
me  is  her  peculiar  use  of  auxiliary  verbs  and  inten- 
sives.  Instead  of  saying,  "  I  had  my  dinner,"  she 
sometimes  says,  "  I  did  have  my  dinner,"  and  to-day 
when  we  had  strawberries  and  cream  for  snack,  she 
said,  "  I  do  find  the  strawberries  with  the  cream  to  be 
very  good." 

Yet  never  once  have  I  detected  the  smallest  sug 
gestion  of  "  broken  English  "  in  her  speech,  except 
that  now  and  then  she  places  the  accent  on  a  wrong 
syllable,  as  a  foreigner  might.  Thus,  when  she  first 
came,  she  spoke  of  something  as  ex<:<?/lent.  I  spoke 
the  word  correctly  soon  afterward,  and  never  since 
has  she  mispronounced  it.  Indeed,  her  quickness  in 
learning  and  her  exceeding  conscientiousness  promise 
to  obliterate  all  that  is  peculiar  in  her  speech  before 
you  get  home  again,  unless  you  come  quickly. 

The  girl  does  n't  know  what  to  make  of  Mammy. 

That  dearest  of  despots  has  conceived  a  great  affection 

for  this  new  "  precious  chile,"  and  she  tyrannises  over 

her  accordingly.    She  refused  to  let  her  get  up  the  other 

75 


EVELTN  BTRD 

morning  until  after  she  had  taken  a  cup  of  coffee  in 
bed,  simply  because  no  fire  had  been  lighted  in  her 
room  that  morning.  And  how  Mammy  did  scold 
when  she  learned  that  Evelyn,  thinking  a  fire  unnec 
essary,  had  sent  the  maid  away  who  had  gone  to  light 
it! 

"You'se  jes'  anudder  sich  as  Mis'  Dorothy,"  she 
said.  "Jes'  case  it 's  spring  yo'  won't  hab  no  fire  to 
dress  by  even  when  it 's  a-rainin'.  An'  so  you  'se  a-tryin' 
to  cotch  yo  death  o'  cole,  jes'  to  spite  ole  Mammy. 
No,  yo'  ain't  a-gvvine  to  git  up  yit.  Don't  you  dar 
try  to.  You  'se  jes'  a-gwine  to  lay  still  till  dem  no- 
'count  niggas  in  de  dinin'-room  sen's  you  a  cup  o' 
coffee  what  Mammy 's  done  tole  'em  to  bring  jes'  as 
soon  as  it 's  ready.  An'  de  next  time  you  goes  fer 
to  stop  de  makin'  o'  you  dressin'-fire,  you  'se  a-gwine 
to  heah  from  Mammy,  yo'  is.  Jes'  you  bear  dat  in 
mind." 

Evelyn  doesn't  quite  understand.  She  says  she 
thought  we  controlled  our  servants,  while  in  fact  they 
control  us.  But  she  heartily  likes  Mammy's  coddling 
tyranny  —  as  what  rightly  constructed  girl  could  fail 
to  do?  Do  you  know,  Arthur,  the  worst  thing  about 
this  war  is  that  there  '11  never  be  any  more  old  mam 
mies  after  it  is  ended  ? 

I  'm  teaching  Evelyn  chemistry,  among  other  things, 
and  she  learns  with  a  rapidity  that  is  positively  aston 
ishing.  She  has  a  perfect  passion  for  precision,  which 
76 


VOROTHT'S   OPINIONS 

will  make  her  invaluable  in  the  laboratory  presently. 
Her  deftness  of  hand,  her  accuracy,  her  conscientious 
devotion  to  whatever  she  does,  are  qualities  that  are 
hard  to  match.  She  never  makes  a  false  motion,  even 
when  doing  the  most  unaccustomed  things  ;  and  what 
ever  she  does,  she  does  conscientiously,  as  if  its  doing 
were  the  sum  of  human  duty.  I  am  positively  fasci 
nated  with  her.  If  I  were  a  man,  I  should  fall  in  love 
with  her  in  a  fashion  that  would  stop  not  at  fire  or 
flood.  I  ought  to  add  that  the  girl  is  a  marvel  of 
frankness  —  as  much  as  any  child  might  be  —  and  that 
her  truthfulness  is  of  the  absolute,  matter-of-course 
kind  which  knows  no  other  way.  But  these  things  you 
will  have  inferred  from  what  I  have  written  before, 
if  I  have  succeeded  even  in  a  small  way  in  describ 
ing  Evelyn's  character.  I  heartily  wish  I  knew  her 
history ;  not  because  of  feminine  curiosity,  but  be 
cause  such  knowledge  might  aid  me  in  my  effort  to 
guide  and  educate  her  aright.  However,  no  such  aid 
is  really  necessary.  With  one  so  perfectly  truthful, 
and  so  childishly  frank,  I  shall  need  only  to  study  her 
self  in  order  to  know  what  to  do  in  her  education. 

There  was  a  postscript  to  this  letter,  of 
course.  In  it  Dorothy  wrote  :  — 

Since  this  letter  was  written,  Evelyn  has  revealed  a 
totally  unsuspected  accomplishment.  She  has  been 
conversing  with  me  in  French,  and  such  French  !  I 

77 


EVELYN  BTRD 

never  heard  anything  like  it,  and  neither  did  you.  It 
is  positively  barbaric  in  its  utter  disregard  of  grammar, 
and  it  includes  many  word  forms  that  are  half  Indian, 
I  suspect.  It  interests  me  mightily,  as  an  apt  illustra 
tion  of  the  way  in  which  new  languages  are  formed, 
little  by  little,  out  of  old  ones. 

There  was  much  else  in  Dorothy's  letter ;  for 
she  and  her  husband  were  accustomed  to  con 
verse  as  fully  and  as  freely  on  paper  as  they  did 
orally  when  together.  These  two  were  not  only 
one  flesh,  but  one  in  mind,  in  spirit,  and  in  all 
that  meant  life  to  them.  Theirs  was  a  perfect 
marriage,  an  ideal  union  —  a  thing  very  rare  in 
this  ill-assorted  world  of  ours. 


"WHEN   GREEK    MEETS    GREEK" 

T  midnight  on  the  3d  of  May,  1864, 
a  message  came  to  General  Lee's  head 
quarters.  It  told  him  only  of  an  event 
which  he  had  expected  to  occur  about  this  time. 
Grant  was  crossing  the  river  into  the  Wilder 
ness,  his  army  moving  in  two  columns  by  way 
of  the  two  lower  fords. 

General  Lee's  plans  were  already  formed  in 
anticipation  of  this  or  any  other  movement  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  He  needed  to  learn 
only  which  line  of  march  of  the  several  that 
were  open  to  him  General  Grant  would  adopt. 
Now  he  knew,  and  instantly  his  orders  were 
given  to  carry  out  plans  previously  and  com 
pletely  wrought  out  in  his  mind.  Grant's 
movement  by  the  lower  fords  indicated  clearly 
what  his  plan  of  campaign  was  to  be.  He  had 
under  his  orders  a  veteran  army  of  one  hundred 
79 


EVELYN  BTRD 

and  thirty  thousand  men,  of  whom  rather  more 
than  one  hundred  thousand  were  ready  for 
actual  battle.  Lee  had  a  total  of  a  little  less 
than  sixty  thousand  men — forty-five  thousand 
of  whom,  perhaps,  he  could  put  upon  the  firing- 
line,  with  which  to  oppose  the  Federal  advance. 

Grant's  plan  was  to  push  forward  rapidly 
through  the  Wilderness  before  Lee  could  strike 
a  blow,  turn  his  adversary's  right,  and  plant  his 
greatly  superior  army  near  Gordonsville,  in 
Lee's  rear,  and  between  him  and  Richmond. 
If  he  could  have  accomplished  that  purpose, 
the  surrender  or  destruction  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  would  have  been  a  matter 
only  of  a  few  days,  or  perhaps  a  few  hours. 
For  if  cut  off  in  this  fashion  from  all  its  sources 
of  supply,  and  with  no  other  army  anywhere  to 
come  to  its  relief,  the  already  half-starving  Vir 
ginia  force  would  have  had  no  resource  except 
to  hurl  itself  upon  Grant's  double  numbers  and 
shatter  itself  to  fragments  in  a  vain  effort  to 
break  through  impregnable  lines.  It  would 
have  had  no  possible  route  of  retreat  open  to  it, 
no  conceivable  road  of  escape,  no  second  line 
of  defence  to  fall  back  upon. 

But  General  Grant  was  dealing  with  the  great- 
80 


"  WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK" 

est  master  of  strategy  of  modern  times.  Grant's 
plan  of  campaign  was  flawless,  but  Robert  E. 
Lee  stood  in  the  way. 

Lee  instantly  moved  forward  to  interfere  with 
his  adversary's  march  toward  Gordonsville,  by 
assailing  him  in  flank.  At  the  same  time  he 
threatened  his  advance  corps  on  their  front,  in 
such  fashion  as  to  compel  Grant  to  recall  them 
and  accept  battle  amid  the  tangled  underbrush 
of  the  Wilderness. 

This  Wilderness  is,  perhaps,  the  very  wildest 
tract  of  land  that  lies  anywhere  east  of  the  Mis 
sissippi.  It  skirts  the  southern  bank  of  the 
Rapidan  for  fifteen  miles,  extending  inland 
from  that  stream  for  about  ten  miles.  Origi 
nally  it  was  densely  timbered,  but  in  colonial 
days,  and  a  little  later,  the  timber  was  cut  away 
to  supply  fuel  for  the  iron-furnaces  that  once 
abounded  there,  but  that  were  afterward  aban 
doned.  As  the  region  does  not  at  all  tempt  to 
agriculture,  the  abandonment  of  the  iron  mines 
left  it  a  veritable  wilderness.  Its  surface  be 
came  covered  with  densely  growing  scrub  trees, 
interlaced  with  a  tangle  of  vines  and  imbedded, 
as  it  were,  in  an  undergrowth  of  a  density  in 
conceivable  to  men  who  have  not  acquainted 
81 


EVELYN  BTRD 

themselves  with  the  lavish  luxuriance  of  South 
ern  vegetation. 

It  was  in  this  Wilderness  that  Lee's  columns 
struck  Grant's  in  flank,  and  for  two  days  a  bat 
tle  raged  there,  of  which,  for  difficulty  of  condi 
tions,  there  is  scarcely  a  parallel  in  the  history 
of  warfare. 

The  men  could  not  see  each  other  at  a  dis 
tance  of  more  than  a  few  rods.  Regiments, 
struggling  through  the  tangled  vines  and  under 
brush,  came  unexpectedly  upon  regiments  of  the 
enemy  and  fought  desperately  for  the  posses 
sion  of  the  ground,  neither  knowing  how  much 
or  how  little  the  holding,  the  conquest,  or  the 
loss  of  the  position  involved  might  signify  in  a 
military  way. 

Orderly  fighting  was  utterly  out  of  the  ques 
tion.  Not  only  was  it  impossible  for  corps  com 
manders  to  handle  their  troops  with  co-operative 
intent ;  even  brigades  were  so  broken  up,  and 
their  several  parts  so  hopelessly  separated  and 
lost  to  each  other  in  the  thickets,  that  their 
commanders  knew  neither  when  nor  where  nor 
how  to  set  one  regiment  to  reinforce  another  at 
a  critical  juncture. 

It  was  a  veritable  Donnybrook  Fair  on  a 
82 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

large  scale,  where  the  only  strategy  consisted 
in  pushing  forward,  and  the  only  tactics  in 
striking  with  all  possible  might  at  the  enemy, 
wherever  he  was  found. 

The  fighting  was  desperate  on  both  sides.  It 
was  such  fighting  as  only  the  most  hardened 
veterans  could  have  been  expected  to  do  under 
circumstances  so  unfavourable,  such  fighting  as 
would  have  been  simply  impossible  at  any 
earlier  stage  of  the  war.  To  valour  these  two 
armies  had  added  discipline  and  long  use  in  war. 
Their  determination  was  that  of  veterans,  their 
courage  that  of  matchless  heroes,  their  endur 
ance  that  of  insensate  machines.  Here  for  the 
first  time  the  two  greatest  armies  of  modern  his 
tory  had  met  in  their  perfection  of  discipline,  of 
experience  in  war,  and  of  that  high  courage 
which  makes  no  distinction  between  the  facing 
of  death  and  the  confronting  of  a  summer 
shower.  To  these  war-seasoned  men  on  either 
side  the  hum  of  bullets  meant  no  more  than  the 
buzzing  of  mosquitoes ;  battle,  no  more  than  a 
breeze. 

But  bullets  were  by  no  means  the  only  source 
of  trouble  and  danger.  Several  times  during 
the  long  struggle,  the  woods  caught  fire,  liter- 
33 


EVELYN  BTRD 

ally  suffocating  men  by  hundreds  who  had 
passed  safely  through  hail-storms  of  bullets  and 
successfully  met  and  repelled  charges  with  the 
bayonet.  Earthworks  hastily  thrown  up  with 
pine-log  revetments  for  their  support,  after  en 
abling  the  men  behind  them  to  resist  and  repel 
successive  assaults  of  desperate  adversaries,  be 
came  themselves  an  irresistible  foe,  by  the  firing 
of  their  log  fronts  and  the  consequent  emana 
tion  of  a  smoke  too  stifling  for  human  lungs 
to  breathe  and  yet  retain  capacity  for  further 
breathing.  The  artillery  played  a  compara 
tively  small  and  very  difficult  part  in  all  this. 
Manoeuvring  with  guns  in  that  underbrush 
was  well-nigh  impossible,  and  there  were  no 
vantage  grounds  anywhere  from  which  a  gun 
could  deliver  its  fire  at  more  than  pistol-shot 
range.  So  delivering  it,  either  the  cannon  fire 
quickly  drove  the  enemy  away,  or  the  fire  of  the 
enemy  drove  the  gun  away  ;  and  in  neither  case, 
after  that,  could  the  artillery-men  see  any  enemy 
to  shoot  at. 

Nevertheless,  Marshall  Pollard's  battery  man 
aged  to  expend  the  greater  part  of  its  ammuni 
tion  during  those   days,   and  that  with  effect. 
Kilgariff  was  largely  instrumental  in  this.    Early 
84 


"PTHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

in  the  contest  Pollard  had  clearly  seen  the 
difficulty  —  nay,  the  impossibility  —  of  handling 
a  battery  of  six  guns  as  a  unit  in  such  condi 
tions.  He  was  subject  to  orders,  of  course,  but 
in  the  execution  of  his  orders  he  had  a  certain 
necessary  discretion,  and  he  exercised  it.  He 
had  only  two  lieutenants  present  for  duty. 
Each  of  these,  of  course,  had  immediate  com 
mand  of  a  section  of  two  guns.  The  third 
section  fell  to  Sergeant-major  Kilgariff,  as  next 
in  command.  So  to  him  Marshall  Pollard 
said  :  — 

"  I  cannot  have  you  personally  with  me  in 
this  fight.  You  have  a  lieutenant's  duty  to  do, 
and  I  trust  you  to  do  it  well.  I  shall  try  to 
keep  the  battery  together,  and  under  my  own 
command  so  far  as  I  can ;  but  I  foresee  that  it 
is  going  to  be  impossible  to  do  that  completely. 
I  must  leave  each  section  commander  to  his 
own  discretion,  in  a  very  large  degree.  Frankly, 
I  have  much  greater  confidence  in  your  ability 
to  fight  your  guns  for  all  they  are  worth  than 
I  have  in  that  of  either  of  the  lieutenants. 
They  are  good  men  and  true,  but  they  have  had 
no  experience  in  independent  command.  You 
—  well,  anyhow,  you  know  more  than  they  do 
8S 


EVELYN  BTRD 

So  I  am  glad  that  you  have  the  left  section. 
That,  of  course,  must  be  the  first  to  be  detached. 
The  others  I  shall  try  to  keep  under  my  own 
direction." 

Beyond  a  mere  "  Thank  you,  Captain,"  Kil- 
gariff  made  no  response.  Half  an  hour  later 
his  section  was  detached  and  sent  to  a  point  of 
special  difficulty  and  danger.  He  plunged  into 
action  with  an  impetuosity  which  surprised  Gen 
eral  Ewell,  who  was  in  personal  command  at 
that  point,  and  whose  uniform  habit  it  was  to 
place  himself  at  the  post  of  danger.  But  a 
moment  later,  observing  the  discretion  with 
which  Kilgariff  selected  a  position  of  vantage 
and  planted  his  guns,  with  equal  reference  to 
their  effectiveness  and  their  safety  from  capture 
by  a  dash  of  the  enemy,  General  Ewell  turned 
to  his  staff,  and  said  :  — 

"  That  young  man  evidently  knows  his  busi 
ness.  Who  is  he  ? " 

Nobody  knew. 

"  Then  find  out,"  said  Ewell. 

Meanwhile,  Kilgariff  was    using   canister   in 

double    charges,   the    range   being  not   greater 

than  two  hundred  yards.     Under  this  withering 

fire   the   enemy   gave  way  at   that   point,   and 

86 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

Ewell's  whole  line  advanced  quickly.  Again 
Kilgariff  selected  his  gun  position  with  discre 
tion,  and  opened  a  murderous  fire  upon  the 
enemy's  key  position.  But  this  time  he  did 
not  use  canister.  Still,  his  fire  seemed  to  have 
all  the  effect  of  canister,  and  his  target  was  for 
a  brief  while  less  than  fifty  yards  distant  from 
the  muzzles  of  his  guns. 

Presently  Ewell  himself  rode  up  to  the  guns, 
and  asked,  in  his  peculiarly  querulous  voice :  — 

"What  ammunition  are  you  using,  Sergeant- 
major  ? " 

"  Shrapnel,  doubled  and  fuse  downward,"  an 
swered  Kilgariff.  "It's  hard  on  the  guns,  I 
know,  but  I  've  run  out  of  canister,  and  must 
use  what  I  can,  till  a  new  supply  comes.  I  Ve 
sent  for  it." 

It  should  be  explained  that  shrapnel  consists 
of  a  thin,  hollow  shell  of  iron,  filled  with  leaden 
bullets.  In  the  centre  of  each  shell  is  a  small 
charge  of  powder,  intended  only  to  open  the 
shell  twenty-five  yards  or  so  in  front  of  an  ene 
my's  line,  and  let  the  leaden  bullets  with  their 
initial  impetus  hurl  themselves  like  hailstones 
into  the  faces  of  the  troops.  But  Kilgariff  was 
turning  his  shrapnel  shells  reverse  way,  with 
87 


EVELYN  BTRD 

their  fuses  toward  the  powder  charge,  so  that 
the  fuses  should  be  melted  at  fhe  moment  of 
firing,  and  the  shells  explode  within  the  gun, 
thus  making  them  serve  the  purpose  of  can 
ister,  which  consists  of  tin  cans  filled  with  iron 
balls. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  that  trick  ? "  queried 
Ewell. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  every  artillery-man  knows  it," 
answered  the  sergeant-major,  evasively.  "  But 
here  comes  a  fresh  supply  of  canister,  so  I  may 
spare  the  guns." 

At  that  moment  a  rifled  gun  of  the  enemy, 
posted  upon  a  hill  eight  or  nine  hundred  yards 
away,  opened  upon  Kilgariff,  through  a  gap  in 
the  forest,  threatening,  by  the  precision  of  its 
fire,  either  to  dismount  his  guns  or  to  compel  his 
retirement  from  the  position  he  had  chosen.  In 
stantly  he  ordered  one  of  his  Napoleons  to  reply. 
It  did  so,  but  without  effect.  After  it  had  fired 
three  shots  to  no  purpose,  Kilgariff  went  to  the 
gun,  bade  the  gunner  stand  aside,  and  himself 
aimed  the  piece,  with  as  much  of  calm  in  his 
demeanour  as  if  he  had  not  been  under  a  double 
fire. 

The  gun  was  discharged,  while  Ewell  watched 


AKE 


"  JT7HO  ARE 

rr      YOU?" 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

the  effect  through  a  field-glass.  The  shell 
seemed  to  strike  immediately  under  the  muzzle 
of  the  enemy's  gun,  and  to  explode  at  the  very 
moment  of  striking.  When  the  smoke  of  its  ex 
plosion  cleared  away,  Ewell  saw  through  his 
glass  that  the  enemy's  gun  had  been  dismounted, 
its  carriage  destroyed,  and  the  men  serving  it 
swept  out  of  existence.  Dismounting,  he  walked 
up  to  Kilgariff,  and  asked  simply :  — 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  Owen  Kilgariff,  sergeant-major  of  Captain 
Marshall  Pollard's  Virginia  battery." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ewell,  remounting  as  he 
issued  orders  for  another  charge  along  his  entire 
line. 

On  both  days,  night  ended  the  conflict,  for 
the  time  at  least,  and  the  first  duty  of  officers 
great  and  small,  after  darkness  set  in  each  even 
ing,  was  to  get  their  commands  together  as  best 
they  could  and  reorganise  them  for  the  next 
day's  work. 

On  the  Confederate  side,  it  was  confidently 
expected,  after  the  two  days'  fighting,  that  the 
next  day's  work  would  consist  in  vigorously 
pressing  the  rear  of  Grant's  columns  on  their 
retreat  across  the  river.  For  every  soldier  in 
89 


EFELTN  BTRD 

the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  regarded  such 
retreat  as  inevitable,  and  the  only  difference  of 
opinion  among  them  was  as  to  what  General 
Lee  would  do  next.  The  general  expectation 
was  that  he  would  almost  instantly  move  by  his 
left  flank  for  another  invasion  of  Maryland  and 
Pennsylvania,  another  threatening  of  Washing 
ton  City. 

And  there  was  good  ground  of  precedent  for 
these  Confederate  expectations.  Lee  had  un 
doubtedly  inflicted  a  severer  punishment  upon 
Grant  than  he  had  before  done  upon  McClellan, 
Pope,  Burnside,  or  Hooker,  and  moreover  he  had 
completely  baffled  Grant's  plan  of  campaign, 
thwarting  his  attempt  to  turn  the  Confederate 
right  and  plant  his  army  in  the  Confederate 
rear  near  Gordonsville.  Four  times  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  had  seen  its  adversary 
retreat  and  assume  the  defensive  after  less  dis 
astrous  defeats  than  that  which  the  Southerners 
were  confident  they  had  inflicted  upon  Grant  in 
these  two  days'  desperate  work.  Why  should 
they  not  expect  Grant,  therefore,  to  retreat  across 
the  river,  as  all  his  predecessors  had  done  under 
like  circumstances  ?  And  why  should  not  Lee 
again  assume  the  right  to  decide  where  and 
90 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

when  and  how  the  struggle  should  be  renewed, 
as  he  had  done  three  times  before  ? 

The  fallacy  in  all  this  lay  in  its  failure  to 
recognise  Grant's  quality,  in  its  assumption  that 
he  was  another  'McClellan,  another  Pope,  an 
other  Burnside,  another  Hooker. 

Between  him  and  his  predecessors  there  was 
this  fundamental  difference  :  they  set  out  to  force 
their  way  to  Richmond  by  strategy  and  fighting, 
and  when  they  found  themselves  outmanoeuvred 
and  badly  damaged  in  battle,  they  gave  up  their 
aggressive  attempts  and  contented  themselves 
with  operations  for  the  defence  of  the  Federal 
capital;  Grant  had  set  out  to  conquer  or  destroy 
Lee's  army  by  the  use  of  a  vastly  superior  force 
whose  losses  could  be  instantly  made  good  by 
reinforcements,  while  Lee  had  nowhere  any 
source  from  which  to  draw  fresh  troops,  and 
when  Grant  found  his  first  attempt  baffled  and 
his  columns  badly  damaged  in  fight,  he  obsti 
nately  remained  where  he  was,  sent  for  rein 
forcements,  and  made  his  preparations  to  "  fight 
it  out  on  this  line  if  it  takes  all  summer." 

Thus,  in  Grant's  character  and  temperament 
the  Confederates  had  a  totally  new  condition  to 
meet.  And  there  was  another  supremely  im- 


EVELYN  BTRD 

portant  fact  governing  this  campaign.  Grant 
was  the  first  commander  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  who  also  and  at  the  same  time  con 
trolled  all  the  other  Federal  armies  in  the  field. 
These  he  directed  with  sole  reference  to  his 
one  supreme  strategic  purpose  —  the  purpose, 
namely,  of  destroying  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  and  making  an  end  of  the  tremendous 
resisting  power  of  Robert  E.  Lee.  In  that 
resisting  power  he,  first  of  all  men,  saw  clearly 
that  the  vitality  of  the  Confederate  cause  had 
its  being. 

In  order  that  he  might  destroy  that,  he  had 
not  only  concentrated  a  mightily  superior  force 
against  it,  and  arranged  to  keep  the  strength  of 
his  own  army  up  to  its  maximum  by  heavy  re 
inforcement  after  every  battle  loss,  but  he  had 
also  ordered  all  the  Federal  armies  in  other  parts 
of  the  country  to  carry  on  such  operations  as 
should  continually  occupy  every  Confederate 
force  and  forbid  Lee  to  reinforce  the  Virginia 
army  from  any  quarter  as  its  numbers  should 
decline  by  reason  of  battle  losses. 

Grant  directed  Sherman  to  begin  the  Atlanta 
campaign  simultaneously  with  the  beginning  of 
the  year's  work  on  the  Rapidan.  He  ordered 
92 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS    GREEK1' 

Thomas  to  hold  East  Tennessee,  and  to  operate 
in  such  fashion  as  to  occupy  all  the  Confederate 
forces  there.  He  ordered  the  Federal  armies 
west  of  the  Mississippi  to  abandon  their  waste 
ful  operations  in  that  quarter,  concentrate  in 
New  Orleans,  and  move  at  once  upon  Mobile,  in 
order  to  prevent  Lee  from  drawing  troops  from 
the  Far  South. 

He  filled  the  valley  of  Virginia  with  forces 
sufficient  to  compel  Lee  to  keep  a  strong  army 
corps  there,  instead  of  calling  it  to  his  assistance 
in  Northern  Virginia.  He  sent  Butler  to  the 
James  River  region  below  Richmond,  by  way  of 
compelling  Lee  to  keep  strong  detachments  at 
Richmond  and  Petersburg,  which  otherwise  he 
might  have  called  to  his  assistance  in  the  cru 
cial  struggle  with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

As  one  looks  back  at  all  this,  and  clearly  dis 
cerns  Grant's  purpose  and  the  means  he  used 
for  its  accomplishment,  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
both  Lee  and  the  Confederate  cause  were 
doomed  in  the  very  hour  of  Grant's  passage 
across  the  Rapidan.  The  only  chance  of  any 
other  issue  lay  in  the  remote  possibility  that 
the  sixty  thousand  men  of  the  Army  of  North 
ern  Virginia  should  inflict  a  decisive  and  de- 
93 


EVELYN  BTRD 

structive  defeat  upon  the  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  men  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  at 
the  outset  of  the  campaign,  and  in  that  way 
bring  hopeless  discouragement  at  the  North  to 
their  aid. 

This  they  did  not  succeed  in  doing  at  the 
Wilderness,  and  when,  after  two  days'  battling 
there,  Grant  moved  by  his  left  flank  to  Spott- 
sylvania  Court  House  to  join  battle  again,  there 
was  scarcely  a  veteran  in  the  Virginia  army 
who  did  not  fully  understand  that  the  beginning 
of  the  end  had  come.  Yet  not  one  of  them 
flinched  from  the  further  fighting  because  of 
its  manifest  hopelessness.  Not  one  of  them  lost 
the  courage  of  despair  in  losing  hope.  Perhaps 
there  was  no  part  of  the  titanic  struggle  which 
so  honourably  distinguished  those  men  of  the 
South  as  did  that  campaign  in  which  they  dog 
gedly  fought  on  after  they  had  come  to  under 
stand  that  their  fighting  was  futile. 

It  is  natural  enough  that  men  should  be  brave 
when  the  lure  of  hope  and  the  confident  ex 
pectation  of  victory  beckon  them  to  the  battle 
front,  but  only  men  of  most  heroic  mould  may 
be  expected  to  fight  with  still  greater  desperation 
after  all  doors  of  hope  are  closed  to  them. 
94 


"WHEN  GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

From  that  hour  when  Grant  moved  from  the 
Wilderness  to  Spottsylvania  till  the  end  came, 
nearly  a  year  later,  these  men  of  the  South  did, 
and  dared,  and  endured  for  love  of  honour 
alone,  with  no  hope  to  inspire  them,  no  re 
motest  chance  of  ultimate  success  as  the  reward 
of  their  valour.  Theirs  was  a  pure  heroism, 
untouched,  untainted,  unalloyed. 

After  two  days  of  such  righting  as  bulldogs 
do,  the  struggle  in  the  Wilderness  ended  with 
no  decisive  advantage  on  either  side.  Grant 
had  secured  possession  of  roads  leading  out  of 
the  Wilderness.  On  the  other  hand  Lee  had 
succeeded  in  completely  baffling  his  adversary's 
strategic  purpose,  and  was  still  in  full  possession 
of  that  region  in  his  own  rear  which  Grant 
had  hoped  to  seize  upon  with  decisive  effect. 
Grant's  losses  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners 
greatly  exceeded  Lee's ;  but  as  an  offset,  he 
could  afford  to  lose  more  heavily  than  the  Con 
federates,  not  only  because  his  force  outnum 
bered  Lee's  by  more  than  two  to  one,  but  also 
because  he  could  repair  all  his  losses  by  re 
inforcement,  while  Lee  had  no  such  resource. 

Baffled,  but  not  beaten,  Grant  decided,  on  the 
evening  of  the  7th  of  May,  to  move  to  the  left, 
95 


EVELYN  BTRD 

passing  out  of  the  Wilderness  and  taking  up 
a  new  position  —  strong  both  for  attack  and 
defence  —  on  a  line  of  hills  near  Spottsylvania 
Court  House.  It  was  his  hope  to  possess  him 
self  of  this  position  before  Lee  should  discover 
his  purpose,  and  to  that  end  he  began  his  march 
after  nightfall,  pushing  strong  columns  forward 
by  all  available  roads,  while  still  ostentatiously 
holding  his  positions  in  the  Confederate  front, 
as  if  to  renew  the  battle  in  the  Wilderness  the 
next  morning. 

But  his  wily  adversary  anticipated  the  move 
ment,  and  discovered  it  almost  as  soon  as  it  was 
begun.  Lee  sent  his  cavalry  and  a  considerable 
force  of  infantry  to  fell  trees  across  the  roads 
and  otherwise  obstruct  the  march  of  Grant's 
column.  Meanwhile,  with  his  main  body,  he 
moved  in  haste  to  Spottsylvania  Court  House. 
The  head  of  his  column  reached  that  point  in 
advance  of  Grant,  and  promptly  seized  upon 
the  coveted  line  of  hills  which  the  men,  accus 
tomed  to  such  work,  proceeded  hastily  to  for 
tify,  fighting,  meanwhile,  with  such  of  the 
Federal  commands  as  had  come  up  to  dispute 
their  possession  of  the  strategic  position. 

It  was  during  this  preliminary  struggle  that  a 
96 


"WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK" 

certain  little  hill  in  front  of  the  main  ridge  fell 
into  hot  dispute.  Its  possession  by  the  Federals 
would  greatly  weaken  the  Confederate  line,  and 
it  was  deemed  essential  by  the  Confederate  com 
manders  present  to  secure  it  at  all  hazards, 
while  the  Federals,  seeing  the  importance  of 
the  little  hill,  concentrated  the  fire  of  twenty 
guns  upon  it,  sweeping  its  top  as  with  a  broom, 
whenever  a  Confederate  force,  large  or  small, 
showed  itself  there. 

Three  times  Confederate  infantry  were  ad 
vanced  to  the  crest,  and  three  times  they  were 
driven  back  by  a  storm  of  cannon  shot  before 
they  could  throw  up  a  dozen  shovelfuls  of  earth. 

Kilgariff,  again  detached  with  his  two  guns, 
sat  upon  his  horse,  looking  on  at  all  this  and 
wondering  what  the  result  would  be.  Presently 
a  brigade  of  North  Carolinians  moved  up  into 
line  just  in  front  of  him,  at  the  moment  when 
the  third  of  the  charging  bodies  was  hurled  back, 
baffled,  beaten,  and  broken  into  fragments. 

Just  then  the  chief  of  artillery  of  the  corps 
with  which  Kilgariff  was  temporarily  serving 
rode  up  and  said  to  him  :  — 

"  Do  you  want  your  opportunity  for  distinc 
tion  and  a  commission  ?  " 
97 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  I  want  all  the  opportunity  I  can  get  to  ren 
der  service,"  was  Kilgariff's  answer. 

"Then  take  your  guns  to  the  crest  of  that 
hill  and  stay  there  !  "  fairly  shouted  the  officer. 

Kilgariff  fully  realised  the  desperate  charac 
ter  of  the  attempt,  and  the  practical  certainty 
that  his  guns,  his  men,  and  his  horses  would  be 
quickly  swept  off  the  face  of  the  earth  when  he 
should  appear  upon  that  shell-furrowed  hilltop. 
But  he  had  no  thought  of  faltering.  On  the 
contrary,  just  as  he  gave  the  order,  "  Forward," 
a  whimsical  thought  occurred  to  him.  "  The 
general  need  not  have  been  at  the  trouble  to 
order  us  to  '  stay  there.'  We  '11  stay  there, 
whether  we  wish  to  or  not.  The  enemy  will 
take  care  of  that."  Then  came  the  more  seri 
ous  thought  that  unless  he  could  bring  his  guns 
into  battery  almost  instantly  upon  reaching  the 
hilltop,  the  slaughter  of  his  horses  might  pre 
vent  the  proper  placing  of  the  pieces.  So,  at 
a  full  run,  he  carried  the  guns  up  the  slope, 
shouting  the  orders,  "  Fire  to  the  front !  In 
battery ! "  at  the  moment  of  coming  within 
sight  of  the  Federal  guns,  less  than  half  a  thou 
sand  yards  away,  and  already  partially  protected 
by  a  hastily  constructed  earthwork. 
98 


"WHEN   GREEK   MEETS   GREEK" 

Fortunately,  the  men  of  Captain  Pollard's 
battery  were  perfect  in  drill  to  their  very  fin 
ger  tips,  and  their  alert  precision  brought  the 
guns  into  position  within  a  second  or  two,  and 
the  twelve-pounders  were  bellowing  before  the 
horses  began  falling  just  in  the  rear. 

Kilgariff  ordered  the  horses  and  caissons  to 
be  retired  a  little  way  down  the  hill,  for  the 
sake  of  such  protection  as  the  ground  afforded, 
but  scarcely  one  of  the  animals  lived  to  enjoy 
such  protection  even  briefly. 

Meantime,  Kilgariff,  dismounted  now  (for 
his  horse  had  been  the  first  to  fall),  stood  there 
working  his  two  utterly  unsupported  guns  under 
the  fiercely  destructive  fire  of  a  score  of  pieces 
on  the  enemy's  side.  His  men  fell  one  after 
another,  like  autumn  leaves  in  a  gale.  Within 
half  a  minute  he  had  called  all  the  drivers  to 
the  guns  to  take  the  places  of  their  dead  or 
dying  comrades,  and  still  each  gun  was  being 
operated  by  a  detachment  too  scant  in  numbers 
for  effectiveness  of  fire. 

It  was  obviously  impossible  that  any  of  them 

could  long  survive  under  a  fire  so  concentrated 

and  so  terrific.     Kilgariff  reckoned  upon  three 

minutes  as  the  utmost  time  that  any  man  there 

99 


EVELYN  BTRD 

could  live ;  and  when  one  of  his  guns  was 
dismounted  at  its  fifth  discharge,  and  two  of  his 
limber-chests  exploded  almost  at  the  same 
moment,  he  hastily  counted  the  cannoniers  left 
to  him  and  found  their  number  to  be  just  seven, 
all  told. 

But  he  had  not  been  ordered  to  undertake 
this  desperate  enterprise  without  a  purpose. 
Reckoning  upon  the  almost  superstitious  rever 
ence  that  the  infantry  cherish  for  cannon,  the 
generals  in  command  had  sent  Kilgariff's  guns 
into  this  caldron  of  fire  as  a  means  of  luring  the 
infantry  to  a  desperate  attempt  to  take  and  hold 
the  little  hill.  Before  Kilgariff  had  traversed 
half  the  distance  toward  the  crest,  the  com 
mander  of  that  North  Carolina  brigade  had 
called  out  a  message  that  was  quickly  passed 
from  mouth  to  mouth  down  his  line.  The  mes 
sage  was  :  — 

"  We  must  save  those  guns  and  hold  that  hill. 
They  call  us  tar  heels.  Let  us  show  how  tar 
sticks." 

Instantly,  and  with  a  yell  that  might  have 

come  from  the  throats  of  so  many  demons,  the 

brigade  of  about  two  thousand  men  bent  their 

heads  forward,  rushed  up  the  hill,  and  swarmed 

100 


"WHEN   GREEK   MEETS   GREEK" 

around  Kilgariff  s  guns.  Their  deployment  into 
line  quickly  diverted  the  enemy's  attention  to 
a  larger  front.  Other  guns  were  hurriedly 
brought  up  to  the  hill,  and  half  an  hour  later 
a  substantial  line  of  earthworks  covered  its 
crest. 

The  three  minutes  that  Kilgariff  had  allowed 
for  the  complete  destruction  of  his  little  com 
mand  were  scarcely  gone  when  this  relief  came. 
He  was  ordered  to  withdraw  his  remaining  gun 
by  hand  down  the  hill — by  hand,  for  the  reason 
that  not  a  horse  remained  of  the  thirty  odd  that 
had  so  lately  galloped  up  the  steep. 


IOI 


VII 

WITH    EVELYN   AT   WYANOKE 

AS  if  bearing  a  charmed  life,  Kilgariff 
had  gone  through  all  this  without  a 
scratch.  He  had  galloped  up  that  hill 
in  the  face  of  a  heavy  infantry  fire ;  he  had 
planted  his  section  under  the  murderous  can 
nonading  of  twenty  well-served  guns  firing  at 
point-blank  range ;  he  had  fought  his  pieces 
under  a  bombardment  so  fierce  that  within  the 
brief  space  of  three  minutes  his  command  was 
well-nigh  destroyed.  Yet  not  a  scratch  of  bul 
let  or  shell-fragment  had  so  much  as  rent  his 
uniform. 

By  one  of  those  grim  jests  of  which  war  is 
full,  he  fell  after  all  this  was  over,  his  neck 
pierced  and  torn  by  a  stray  bullet  that  had 
missed  its  intended  billet  in  front  and  sped  on 
in  search  of  some  human  target  in  the  rear. 

He  was  carried  immediately  to  one  of  the 
field-hospitals  which  Doctor  Arthur  Brent  was 
I O2 


WITH  EVELTN  AT   WTANOKE 

hurriedly  establishing  just  in  rear  of  the  newly 
formed  line  of  defence.  There  he  fell  into  Doc 
tor  Brent's  own  friendly  hands ;  for  that  officer, 
the  moment  he  saw  who  the  patient  was,  left 
his  work  of  supervision  and  himself  knelt  over 
the  senseless  form  of  the  sergeant-major  to  dis 
cover  the  extent  of  his  injury  and  to  repair  it 
if  possible.  He  found  it  to  be  severe,  but  not 
necessarily  fatal.  He  proceeded  to  stop  the 
dangerous  hemorrhage,  cleansed  and  dressed 
the  wound,  and  within  half  an  hour  Kilgariff 
regained  consciousness. 

A  few  hours  later,  finding  that  the  temporary 
hospital  was  exposed  to  both  artillery  and  mus 
ketry  fire,  Doctor  Brent  ordered  the  removal  of 
the  wounded  men  to  a  point  a  mile  or  so  in  the 
rear ;  and  finding  Kilgariff,  thanks  to  his  elastic 
constitution,  able  to  endure  a  little  longer  jour 
ney,  he  took  him  to  his  own  quarters,  still 
farther  to  the  rear. 

Here  Captain  Pollard  managed  to  visit  his 
sergeant-major  during  the  night. 

"  General  Anderson,  who  is  in  command  of 

Longstreet's    corps,    now    that    Longstreet    is 

wounded,"  he  said,  during  the  interview,  "has 

asked  for  your  report  of  your  action  on  the  hill. 

103 


EVELYN  BTRD 

If  you  are  strong  enough  to  answer  a  question 
or  two,  I  '11  make  the  report  in  your  stead." 

"  I  think  I  can  write  it  myself,"  answered 
Kilgariff;  "and  I  had  rather  do  that." 

Paper  and  a  pencil  were  brought,  and,  with 
much  difficulty,  the  wounded  man  wrote  :  — 

Under  orders  this  day,  I  took  the  left  section  of 
Captain  Pollard's  Virginia  Battery  to  the  crest  of  a 
hill  in  front. 

After  three  minutes  of  firing,  infantry  having  come 
up,  I  was  ordered  to  retire,  and  did  so.  My  losses 
were  eighteen  men  killed  and  fifteen  wounded,  of  a 
total  force  of  thirty-eight  men.  One  of  my  gun  car 
riages  was  destroyed  by  an  enemy's  shell,  and  two 
limber- chests  were  blown  up.  All  of  the  horses  hav 
ing  fallen,  I  brought  off  the  remaining  gun  and  the 
two  caissons  by  hand,  in  obedience  to  orders.  I  was 
fortunately  able  also  to  bring  off  all  the  wounded. 
Every  man  under  my  command  behaved  to  my  satis 
faction. 

All  of  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 
OWEN  KILGARIFF, 
Sergeant-major. 

"  Is  that  all  you  wish  to  say  ? "  asked  Pollard, 
when  he  had  read  the  report. 
"  Quite  all." 

104 


WITH  EVELYN  AT  WYANOKE 

"You  make  no  mention  of  your  own  wound." 

"  That  was  received  later.  It  has  no  proper 
place  in  this  report." 

"  True.  That  is  for  me  to  mention  in  my  re 
port  for  the  day." 

But  in  his  indorsement  upon  the  sergeant- 
major's  report  Pollard  wrote:  — 

I  cannot  too  highly  commend  to  the  attention  of 
the  military  authorities  the  extraordinary  courage,  de 
votion,  and  soldierly  skill  manifested  by  Sergeant- 
major  Kilgariff,  both  in  this  affair  and  in  the  fighting 
of  the  last  few  days  in  the  Wilderness. 

In  the  meantime  General  Ewell  had  men 
tioned  in  one  of  his  reports  the  way  in  which 
Kilgariff  had  done  his  work  in  the  Wilderness, 
and  now  General  Anderson  wrote  almost  en 
thusiastically  in  commendation  of  this  young 
man's  brilliant  and  daring  action,  so  that  when 
the  several  reports  reached  General  Lee's  head 
quarters,  the  great  commander  was  deeply  im 
pressed.  Here  was  a  young  enlisted  man  whose 
conduct  in  action  had  been  so  conspicuously 
gallant  and  capable  as  to  attract  favourable 
mention  from  two  corps  commanders  within 
a  brief  period  of  three  or  four  days.  General 
105 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Lee  officially  recommended  that  a  captain's 
commission  should  be  issued  at  once  to  a  man 
so  deserving  of  promotion  and  so  fit  to  command. 
The  document  did  not  reach  Kilgariff  until  a 
fortnight  later,  after  Arthur  Brent  had  sent  him 
to  Wyanoke  for  treatment  and  careful  nursing. 
Kilgariff  took  the  commission  in  his  enfeebled 
hands  and  carefully  read  it  through,  seeming  to 
find  some  species  of  pleasure  in  perusing  the 
formal  words  with  which  he  was  already  famil 
iar.  Across  the  sheet  was  written  in  red  ink :  — 

This  commission  is  issued  in  accordance  with  the 
request  of  General  R.  E.  Lee,  commanding,  in  recog 
nition  of  gallant  and  meritorious  conduct  in  battle. 

That  rubric  seemed  especially  to  please  the 
sick  man.  For  a  moment  it  brought  light  to 
his  eyes,  but  in  the  next  instant  a  look  of 
trouble,  almost  of  despair,  overspread  his  face. 

"  Send  it  back,"  he  said  to  Evelyn,  who  was 
watching  by  the  side  of  the  couch  that  had  been 
arranged  for  him  in  the  broad,  breeze-swept  hall 
at  Wyanoke.  "  Send  it  back ;  I  do  not  want  it." 

Ever  since  Kilgariff's  removal  to  the  house  of 
the  Brents,  Evelyn  had  been  his  nurse  and  com 
panion,  tireless  in  her  attention  to  his  comfort 
1 06 


WITH  EVELYN  AT   WYANOKE 

when  he  was  suffering,  and  cheerily  entertain 
ing  at  those  times  when  he  was  strong  enough 
to  engage  in  conversation. 

"  You  know,  it  was  he  who  took  me  out  of 
the  burning  house,"  she  said  to  Dorothy,  by  way 
of  explanation,  not  of  apology ;  for  in  the  inno 
cent  sincerity  of  her  nature,  she  did  not  under 
stand  or  believe  that  there  can  ever  be  need  of 
an  apology  for  the  doing  of  any  right  thing. 

For  one  thing,  she  was  accustomed  to  write 
the  brief  and  infrequent  letters  that  Kilgariff 
wished  written.  These  were  mostly  in  acknow 
ledgment  of  letters  of  inquiry  and  sympathy 
that  came  to  him  from  friends  in  the  army. 

Usually  he  dictated  the  notes  to  her,  and  she 
wrote  them  out  in  a  hand  that  was  as  legible  as 
print  and  not  unlike  a  rude  print  in  appearance. 
At  first  glance  her  manuscript  looked  altogether 
masculine,  by  reason  of  the  breadth  of  stroke 
and  the  size  of  the  letters,  but  upon  closer  scru 
tiny  one  discovered  in  it  many  little  peculiarities 
that  were  distinctly  feminine. 
Kilgariff  asked  her  one  day  :  — 
"  Who  taught  you  to  write,  Evelyn  ?  " 
"  Nobody.     Nobody  ever  taught  me  much  of 
anything  till  I  came  to  live  at  Wyanoke." 
107 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  How,  then,  did  you  learn  to  read  and  write, 
and  especially  to  spell  so  well  ?  " 

The  girl  appeared  frightened  a  bit  by  these 
questions,  which  seemed  to  be  master  keys  of 
inquiry  into  the  mystery  of  her  early  life.  Kil- 
gariff,  observing  her  hesitation,  said  quickly  but 
very  gently :  — 

"There,  little  girl,  don't  answer  my  'sick 
man's  '  questions.  I  did  n't  mean  to  ask  them. 
They  are  impertinent." 

"  No,"  she  said  reflectively,  "  nothing  that 
comes  from  you  can  be  impertinent,  I  reckon," 
—  for  she  was  rapidly  adopting  the  dialect  of 
the  cultivated  Virginians.  "  You  see,  you  took 
me  out  of  that  house  afire,  and  so  you  have  a 
right—" 

"  I  claim  no  right  whatever,  Evelyn,"  he  said, 
"and  you  must  quit  thinking  about  that  little 
incident  up  there  on  the  Rapidan." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  never  quit  thinking  about 
that.  You  were  great  and  good,  and  oh,  so 
strong !  and  you  did  the  best  thing  that  ever 
anybody  did  for  me." 

"  But  I  would  have  done  the  same  for  a 
negro." 

"  But  you  did  n't  do  it  for  a  negro.  You  did 
1 08 


WITH  EVELYN  AT  WYANOKE 

it  for  me.  So  you  see  I  am  right  about  it.  Am 
I  not  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so.  Your  logic  is  a  trifle  lame, 
perhaps,  but  your  heart  is  right.  Never  mind 
that  now." 

"  But  I  want  to  tell  you  all  I  can,"  the  girl 
resumed.  "  You  see,  I  can't  tell  you  much, 
because  I  don't  know  much  about  myself, 'and 
because  they  made  me  swear.  But  I  can  answer 
this  question  of  yours.  I  don't  know  just  how 
I  learned  to  read.  I  reckon  somebody  must  have 
taught  me  that  when  I  was  so  little  that  I  have 
forgotten  all  about  it.  Anyhow,  I  don't  remem 
ber.  But  after  I  had  read  a  good  many  books, 
there  came  a  time  when  I  couldn't  get  any 
books,  except  three  that  I  was  carrying  with 
me.  That  was  when  I  was  a  little  boy,  and  —  " 

"  A  little  boy?     A  little  girl,  you  mean." 

"No,  I  mean  a  little  boy,  but  I  mustn't  tell 
you  about  that,  only  I  have  already  told  you  that 
once  I  was  a  little  boy.  It  slipped  out,  and  you 
must  forget  it,  please,  for  I  did  n't  mean  to  say 
it.  I  was  n't  really  a  boy,  of  course,  but  I  had  to 
wear  a  boy's  clothes  and  a  boy's  name.  Never 
mind  that.  You  must  n't  ask  me  about  it.  As 
I  was  saying,  when  I  grew  tired  of  reading  my 
109 


EVELYN  BTRD 

three  books  over  and  over  again,  I  decided  to 
write  some  new  ones  for  myself.  The  only 
trouble  was  that  I  had  never  learned  to  write. 
That  didn't  bother  me  much,  because  I  had  seen 
writing  and  had  read  a  little  of  it  sometimes  ;  so 
I  knew  that  it  was  just  the  same  as  print,  only 
that  the  letters  were  made  more  carelessly  and 
some  of  them  just  a  little  differently  in  shape. 
I  knew  I  could  do  it,  after  a  little  practice.  I 
got  some  eagle's  quills  from  — "  here  the  girl 
checked  herself,  and  bit  her  lip.  Presently  she 
continued :  — 

"  I  got  some  eagle's  quills  from  a  man  who 
had  them,  and  I  made  myself  some  pens.  I  had 
some  blank-books  that  had  been  partly  written 
in  at  the  —  well,  partly  written  in.  But  there 
wasn't  any  ink  there,  so  I  made  myself  some 
out  of  oak  bark  and  nutgalls,  'setting'  the  colour 
with  copperas,  as  I  had  seen  the  people  at  the  — 
well,  as  I  had  seen  somebody  do  it  in  that  way. 
It  made  very  good  ink,  and  I  soon  taught  my 
self  how  to  write.  As  for  the  spelling,  I  tried  to 
remember  how  all  the  words  looked  in  the  books 
I  had  read,  and  when  I  couldn't  remember,  I 
would  stop  writing  and  look  through  the  three 
books  I  still  had  till  I  came  upon  the  word  I 
no 


WITH  EVELYN  AT   WTANOKE 

wanted.     After  that,   I  never  had  any  trouble 
about  spelling  that  word." 

"  I  should  imagine  not,"  said  Kilgariff.  "  But 
did  you  succeed  in  writing  any  books  for  your 
self  ? " 

"Yes,  two  of  them." 

"  What  were  they  about?  " 

"Well,  in  one  of  them  I  wrote  all  I  could 
remember  about  myself ;  they  got  hold  of  that 
and  threw  it  into  the  fire." 

"Who  did  that?" 

"Why  —  well,  the  people  I  was  with  —  no,  I 
must  n't  tell  you  about  them.  In  another  of  my 
books  I  wrote  all  I  had  learned  about  birds  and 
animals  and  trees  and  other  things.  I  reckon 
I  know  a  good  deal  about  such  things,  but  what 
I  wrote  was  only  what  I  had  learned  for  myself 
by  seeing  so  much  of  them.  You  see,  I  was 
alone  a  good  deal  then,  except  for  the  wild 
creatures,  and  I  got  pretty  well  acquainted  with 
them.  Even  here,  where  they  never  knew  me, 
I  can  call  birds  or  squirrels  to  me  out  of  the 
trees,  and  they  soon  get  so  they  will  come  to 
me  even  without  my  calling  them." 

"  Is  that  book  in  existence  still  ? "  asked  Kil 
gariff,  with  manifest  eagerness. 
in 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  I  reckon  so,  but  maybe  not.  I  really  don't 
know.  Anyhow,  I  shall  never  see  it  again,  of 
course,  and  nobody  else  would  care  for  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  somebody  else  would.  I  would  give 
a  thousand  dollars  in  gold  for  it  at  this  moment." 

"Why,  what  for?  It  was  only  a  childish 
thing,  and  besides  I  had  never  studied  about 
such  things." 

"Listen!"  interrupted  Kilgariff.  "Do  you 
know  where  science  comes  from,  and  what  it  is? 
Do  you  realise  that  absolutely  every  fact  we 
know,  of  the  kind  we  call  scientific,  was  origi 
nally  found  out  just  by  somebody's  looking  and 
listening  as  you  did  with  your  animals  and  birds 
and  flowers  ?  And  the  persons  who  looked  and 
listened  and  thought  about  what  they  saw,  told 
other  people  about  them  in  books,  and  so  all  our 
science  was  born  ?  Those  other  people  have  put 
things  together  and  given  learned  names  to 
them,  and  classified  the  facts  for  convenience, 
but  the  ones  who  did  the  observing  have  always 
been  the  discoverers,  the  most  profitable  workers 
in  science.  Audubon  was  reckoned  an  idle, 
worthless  fellow  by  the  commonplace  people 
about  him,  because  he  'wasted  his  time'  roaming 
about  in  the  woods,  making  friends  of  the  wild 

112 


WITH  EVELYN  AT  WYANOKE 

creatures  and  studying  their  habits.  But  scien 
tific  men,  who  are  not  commonplace  or  narrow- 
minded,  were  glad  to  listen  when  this  idle  fellow 
told  them  what  he  had  learned  in  the  woods. 
In  Europe  and  America  the  great  learned  so 
cieties  never  tired  of  heaping  honours  upon  him 
and  the  books  he  wrote ;  and  the  pictures  he 
painted  of  his  woodland  friends  sold  for  fabulous 
sums,  bringing  him  fame  and  fortune." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  answered  the  girl,  simply ; 
"  for  I  like  Audubon.  I  've  been  reading  his 
Birds  of  America,  since  I  came  to  Wyanoke. 
But  I  am  not  Audubon,  and  my  poor,  childish 
writings  are  not  great  like  his." 

"  They  are  if  they  record,  as  they  must,  ob 
servations  that  nobody  else  had  made  before. 
On  the  chance  of  that,  I  would  give  a  thousand 
dollars  in  gold,  as  I  said  before,  for  that  childish 
manuscript.  Could  you  not  reproduce  it?" 

"  Oh,  no  ;  never.  Of  course,  I  remember  all 
the  things  I  put  into  it,  but  I  set  them  down  so 
childishly  —  " 

"You  set  them  down  truthfully,  of  course." 

"Oh,  yes  —  but  not  in  any  proper  order.  I 
just  wrote  in  my  book  each  day  the  new  things 
I  had  seen  or  learned  or  thought.  Mostly  I  was 


EVELYN  BTRD 

interested  in  finding  out  what  animals  think,  and 
how  or  in  what  queer  ways  plants  behave  under 
certain  circumstances.  There  was  nothing  in  all 
that  —  " 

"  There  was  everything  in  all  that,  and  it  was 
worth  everything.  But  of  course,  as  you  say, 
you  cannot  reproduce  the  book  —  not  now  at 
least.  Perhaps  some  day  you  may." 

"But  I  don't  understand  ?"  queried  the  girl. 
"  If  I  can't  rewrite  the  book  now  —  and  I  cer 
tainly  can't  —  how  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  do  it 
'  some  day  '  ?  Before  '  some  day  '  comes  I  shall 
have  forgotten  many  things  that  I  remember 
now." 

"  No,  you  will  not  forget  anything  of  vital 
interest.  But  now  you  are  self-conscious  and 
therefore  shy  and  self-distrustful,  as  you  were 
not  in  your  childhood  when  you  wrote  the  book, 
and  as  you  will  not  be  when  you  grow  into  a 
maturer  womanhood  and  learn  to  be  less  im 
pressed  by  what  you  now  think  the  superiority 
of  others.  When  that  time  comes,  you  will 
write  the  book  again,  adding  much  to  its  store 
of  observed  facts,  for  you  are  not  going  to  stop 
observing  any  more  than  you  are  going  to  stop 
thinking." 

114 


WITH  EVELYN  AT  WYANOKE 

Evelyn  shook  her  head. 

"I  could  never  write  a  book — a  real  book, 
I  mean  —  fit  to  be  printed." 

"We  shall  see  about  that  later,"  said  Kil- 
gariff.  "  You  are  a  young  woman  of  unusual 
intellectual  gifts,  and  under  Mrs.  Brent's  influ 
ence  you  will  grow,  in  ways  that  you  do  not  now 
imagine." 

Kilgariff  was  profoundly  interested,  and  he 
was  rapidly  talking  himself  into  a  fever.  Evelyn 
was  quick  to  see  this,  and  she  was  also  anxious 
to  escape  further  praise  and  further  talk  about 
herself.  So,  with  a  demure  little  air  of  author 
ity,  she  said :  — 

"  You  must  stop  talking  now.  It  is  very  bad 
for  you.  You  must  take  a  few  sips  of  broth  and 
then  a  long  sleep." 

All  this  occurred  long  after  the  day  when 
Kilgariff  handed  her  his  captain's  commission 
and  bade  her  "  send  it  back,"  saying,  "  I  don't 
want  it."  At  that  time  she  was  wholly  ignorant 
of  military  formalities.  She  did  not  know  that 
under  military  usage  Kilgariff  could  not  com 
municate  with  the  higher  authorities  except  for 
mally  and  "  through  the  regular  channels "  ; 
that  is  to  say,  through  a  succession  of  officers, 


EVELYN  BTRD 

beginning  with  his  captain.  She  saw  that  this 
commission  was  dated  at  the  adjutant-general's 
office  in  Richmond  and  signed,  "  S.  Cooper,  Ad 
jutant-general."  Nothing  could  be  simpler,  she 
thought,  than  to  relieve  Kilgariff  of  all  trouble 
in  the  matter  by  herself  sending  the  document 
back,  with  a  polite  note  to  Mr.  S.  Cooper.  So 
she  wrote  the  note  as  follows :  — 
S.  COOPER,  Adj't-general, 

Richmond. 
DEAR  SIR  :  — 

Sergeant-major  Kilgariff  is  too  weak  from  his  wound 
to  write  his  own  letters,  so  I  'm  writing  this  note  for 
him,  to  send  back  the  enclosed  paper.  Mr.  Kilgariff 
does  n't  want  it,  but  he  thanks  you  for  your  courtesy 

in  sending  it. 

Yours  truly, 

EVELYN  BYRD. 

Precisely  what  would  have  happened  if  this  ex 
traordinary  note  with  its  enclosure  had  reached 
the  adjutant-general  of  the  army,  in  response  to 
his  official  communication,  it  is  difficult  to  imag 
ine.  Fortunately,  Evelyn  was  puzzled  to  know 
whether  she  should  write  on  the  envelope,  "  Mr. 
S.  Cooper,"  or  "  S.  Cooper,  Esq."  So  she  waited 
till  Kilgariff  should  be  awake  and  able  to  instruct 

her  on  that  point. 

116 


WITH  EVELTN  AT   WYANOK.E 

When  he  saw  what  she  had  written,  his  first 
impulse  was  to  cry  out  in  consternation.  His 
second  was  to  laugh  aloud.  But  he  did  neither. 
Instead,  he  quietly  said  :  — 

"  We  must  be  a  little  more  formal,  dear,  and 
do  this  business  in  accordance  with  military  eti 
quette.  You  see,  these  official  people  are  very 
exacting  as  to  formalities." 

Then  he  wrote  upon  the  official  letter  which 
had  accompanied  the  commission  a  respectful 
indorsement  declining  the  commission,  after 
which  he  directed  his  secretary-nurse  to  address 
it  formally  to  Captain  Marshall  Pollard,  who, 
he  explained,  would  indorse  it  and  forward  it 
through  the  regular  channels,  as  required  by 
military  usage. 

"But  why  not  accept  the  commission  ?  "  asked 
Evelyn,  simply.  She  did  not  at  all  realise  —  and 
Kilgariff  had  taken  pains  that  she  should  not 
realise  —  the  enormity  of  her  blunder  or  the  ludi- 
crousness  of  it.  "  Is  n't  it  better  to  be  a  captain 
chan  a  sergeant-major  ?  " 

"For  most  men,  yes,"  answered  Kilgariff; 
"but  not  for  me." 

But  he  did  not  explain. 


117 


VIII 

SOME    REVELATIONS    OF    EVELYN 

IN  the  meanwhile  Arthur  Brent  had  acted 
upon  Dorothy's  suggestion.     He  had  pre 
pared    a  careful   statement    of   Kilgariff's 
case,  withholding  his  name  of  course,  and  had 
submitted  it  to  General  Stuart,  with  the  request 
that  that  typical  exemplar  of  all  that  was  best 
in  chivalry  should  himself  choose  such  officers 
as  he  deemed  best,  to  constitute  the  court. 

The  verdict  was  unanimous.     Stuart  wrote  to 
Arthur  Brent :  — 

Every  member  of  the  court  is  of  opinion  that 
your  own  assurance  of  the  innocence  of  the  gentleman 
concerned  is  conclusive.  They  are  all  of  opinion  that 
he  is  entirely  free  and  entitled  to  accept  a  commission, 
and  that  he  is  not  under  the  slightest  obligation  to 
reveal  to  anybody  the  unfortunate  circumstances  that 
have  caused  him  to  hesitate  in  this  matter.  It  is  the 
further  opinion  of  the  court,  and  I  am  asked  to  ex 
press  it  with  emphasis,  that  the  course  of  the  gentle 
man  concerned,  in  refusing  to  accept  a  commission 
118 


SOME  REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

upon  the  point  of  honour  that  influenced  him  to  that 
decision,  is  in  itself  a  sufficient  assurance  of  his  char 
acter.  Tell  him  from  me  that,  without  at  all  knowing 
who  he  is,  I  urge  and,  if  I  may,  I  command  him  to 
accept  the  post  you  offer  him,  in  order  that  he  may 
render  his  best  services  to  the  cause  that  we  all  love. 

Arthur  Brent  hurried  this  letter  to  his  friend 
at  Wyanoke ;  but  before  it  arrived,  the  writer 
of  it,  the  "  Chevalier  of  the  Lost  Cause,"  had 
passed  from  earth.  He  fell  at  the  Yellow 
Tavern,  at  the  head  of  his  troopers  in  one  of 
the  tremendous  onsets  which  he  knew  so  well 
how  to  lead,  before  this  generous  missive  — 
perhaps  the  last  that  he  ever  wrote  —  fell  under 
the  eyes  of  the  man,  all  unknown  to  him,  whom 
he  thus  commanded  to  accept  honour  and  duty 
with  it. 

The  fact  of  Stuart's  death  peculiarly  embar 
rassed  a  man  of  Kilgariff's  almost  boyish  sen 
sitiveness. 

I  feel  [he  wrote  to  Arthur  Brent]  as  if  I  were 
disobeying  Stuart's  commands  and  disregarding  his 
dying  request,  in  still  refusing  to  reconsider  my  de 
cision.  Yet  I  feel  that  I  must  do  so  in  spite  of  the 
decision  of  your  court  of  honour,  in  spite  of  your 
friendly  insistence,  in  spite  of  everything.  After  all, 
119 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Arthur,  a  man  must  be  judge  in  his  own  case,  when 
his  honour  is  involved.  The  most  that  others  can  do 
—  the  most  even  that  a  court  of  honour  can  do  —  is 
to  excuse,  to  pardon,  to  permit.  I  could  never  sub 
mit  to  the  humiliation  of  excuse,  of  pardon,  of  per 
mission,  however  graciously  granted.  I  sincerely  wish 
you  could  understand  me,  Arthur.  In  aid  of  that,  let 
me  state  the  case.  I  am  a  man  condemned  on  an 
accusation  of  crime.  I  am  an  escaped  prisoner,  a 
fugitive  from  justice.  I  am  innocent.  I  know  that, 
and  you  are  generous  enough  to  believe  it.  But  the 
hideous  fact  of  my  conviction  remains.  It  seems  to 
me  that  even  upon  the  award  of  a  court  of  honour, 
backed  by  something  like  the  dying  injunction  of  our 
gallant  cavalier,  Stuart,  I  cannot  honourably  consent 
to  accept  a  commission  and  meet  men  of  stainless 
reputation  upon  equal  terms,  or  perhaps  even  as  their 
superior  and  commanding  officer,  without  first  reveal 
ing  to  each  and  all  of  them  the  ugly  facts  that  stand 
in  the  way.  Generous  they  may  be  ;  generous  they 
are.  But  it  is  not  for  me  to  impose  myself  upon  their 
generosity,  or  to  deceive  them  by  a  reserve  which  I 
am  bound  to  practise. 

I  have  already  sent  back  a  captain's  commission 
which  I  had  fairly  won  by  that  little  fight  on  the  hill 
at  Spottsylvania.  With  you  I  may  be  frank  enough  to 
say  that  any  sergeant-major  doing  what  I  did  on  that 
occasion  would  have  been  entitled  to  his  captaincy  as 
1 2O 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

a  matter  of  right,  and  not  at  all  as  a  matter  of  favour. 
I  had  fairly  won  that  commission,  yet  I  returned  it  to 
the  war  department,  simply  because  I  could  not  for 
get  the  facts  in  my  case.  How  much  more  imperative 
it  is  that  I  should  refuse  the  higher  commission  which 
you  press  upon  me,  and  which  I  have  not  won  by  any 
conspicuous  service  !  Will  you  not  understand  me, 
my  friend?  Will  you  not  try  to  look  at  this  matter 
from  my  point  of  view?  So  long  as  I  am  a  con 
demned  criminal,  a  fugitive  from  justice,  I  simply 
cannot  consent  to  become  a  commissioned  officer  en 
titled  by  my  government's  certification  to  meet  on 
equal  terms  men  against  whom  no  accusation  has 
been  laid. 

Let  that  matter  rest  here.  I  shall  remain  a  ser 
geant-major  to  the  end  —  an  enlisted  man,  a  non 
commissioned  officer  whose  captain  may  send  him 
back  to  the  gun  whenever  it  pleases  him  to  do  so,  a 
man  who  must  touch  his  cap  to  every  officer  he  meets, 
a  man  subject  to  orders,  a  man  ready  for  any  work  of 
war  that  may  be  given  him  to  do.  In  view  of  the 
tedious  slowness  with  which  I  am  recovering  from  this 
wound,  and  the  great  need  I  know  Captain  Pollard 
has  for  an  executive  sergeant,  I  wrote  to  him,  two 
weeks  ago,  resigning  my  place,  and  asking  him  to 
select  some  other  capable  man  in  my  stead.  He 
replied  in  his  generous  fashion,  absolutely  refusing 
to  accept  my  resignation. 

121 


EVELYN  BTRD 

That  was  Kilgariff' s  modest  way  of  putting 
the  matter.  What  Pollard  had  actually  written 
was  this :  — 

By  your  gallantry  and  your  capacity  as  a  hard-fight 
ing  soldier,  you  have  won  for  my  battery  such  honour 
and  distinction  as  had  not  come  to  it  from  all  its  pre 
vious  good  conduct.  Do  you  imagine  that  I  am  going 
to  lose  such  a  sergeant-major  as  you  are,  merely  be 
cause  his  honourable  wounds  temporarily  incapacitate 
him  ?  I  had  thought  to  lose  you  by  your  richly  earned 
promotion  to  a  rank  equal  to  my  own,  or  superior  to 
it.  That  promotion  you  have  refused  —  foolishly,  I 
think  —  but  at  any  rate  you  have  refused  it.  You  are 
still  my  sergeant-major,  therefore,  and  will  remain  that 
until  you  consent  to  accept  a  higher  place. 

This  was  the  situation  so  far  as  Kilgariff  was 
concerned,  as  it  revealed  itself  to  Pollard  and 
Arthur  Brent.  Dorothy  knew  another  side  of 
it.  For  with  Dorothy,  Kilgariff  had  quickly 
established  relations  of  the  utmost  confidence 
and  the  truest  friendship  ;  and  to  Dorothy,  Kil 
gariff  revealed  every  thought,  as  he  had  never 
done  to  any  other  human  being. 

Indeed,  revelation  was  not  necessary.  Doro 
thy  was  a  woman  of  that  high  type  that  loves 
sincerely  and  with  courage,  and  Dorothy  had 
122 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

seen  the  daily  and  hourly  growing  fascination 
of  Kilgariff  for  Evelyn.  She  had  seen  Evelyn's 
devoted  ministry  to  him,  and  had  understood 
the  unconscious  love  that  lay  behind  its  child 
like  reserve.  She  had  understood,  as  he  had 
not,  that,  all  unknown  to  herself,  Evelyn  had 
made  of  Kilgariff  the  hero  of  her  adoration,  and 
that  Kilgariff's  soul  had  been  completely  en 
thralled  by  a  devotion  which  did  not  recognise 
its  own  impulse  or  the  fulness  of  its  meaning. 
Dorothy  knew  far  more,  indeed,  of  the  relations 
between  these  two  than  either  of  themselves 
had  come  to  know. 

She  was  in  no  way  unprepared,  therefore, 
when  one  day  Kilgariff  said  to  her,  as  they  two 
sat  in  converse  :  — 

"  You  know,  of  course,  that  I  am  deeply  in 
love  with  Evelyn  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Dorothy  answered  ;  "  I  must  be  blind 
if  I  did  not  see  that." 

"  Of  course,"  responded  the  man,  "  I  have  said 
nothing  to  her  on  the  subject,  and  I  shall  say 
nothing,  to  the  end.  I  speak  to  you  of  it  only 
because  I  want  your  help  in  avoiding  the  danger- 
point.  Evelyn  is  not  in  the  least  in  love  with 
me." 

123 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Dorothy  made  no  response  to  that. 

"  She  is  grateful  to  me  for  having  saved  her 
life,  and  gratitude  is  a  sentiment  utterly  at  war 
with  love.  Moreover,  Evelyn  is  perfectly  frank 
and  unreserved  in  her  conversations  with  me. 
No  woman  is  ever  so  with  the  man  she  loves, 
until  after  he  has  made  her  his  wife.  So  I  re 
gard  Evelyn,  as  for  the  present,  safe.  She  is 
not  in  love  with  me,  and  I  shall  do  nothing  to 
induce  such  sentiment  on  her  part." 

Again  Dorothy  sat  silent. 

"  But  there  is  much  that  I  can  do  for  her, 
and  I  want  to  do  it.  You  must  help  me.  And 
above  all  you  must  tell  me  the  moment  you  dis 
cover  in  her  any  shadow  or  trace  of  that  reserve 
toward  me  which  might  mean  or  suggest  a 
dawning  of  love.  I  shall  be  constantly  on  the 
lookout  for  such  signs,  but  you,  with  your 
woman's  wit  and  intuitions,  may  be  quicker 
than  I  to  see." 

"Precisely  what  do  you  mean,  Kilgariff?" 
Dorothy  asked,  in  her  frank  way  of  going 
directly  to  the  marrow  of  every  matter  with 
which  she  had  occasion  to  deal.  "You  say 
you  are  in  love  with  Evelyn.  Do  you  not  wish 
her  to  be  in  love  with  you  ?  " 
124 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

"  No !  By  every  consideration  of  propriety, 
by  every  sentiment  of  honour,  no!  "  he  answered, 
with  more  of  vehemence  than  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  put  into  his  words. 

"  Do  you  not  understand  ?  I  can  never  ask 
her  to  marry  me ;  I  am  therefore  in  honour 
bound  not  to  win  her  love.  I  shall  devote  my 
self  most  earnestly  to  the  task  of  repairing  such 
defects  in  her  education  as  I  discover.  But  the 
moment  I  see  or  suspect  the  least  disposition 
on  her  part  to  think  of  me  otherwise  than 
with  the  indifference  of  mere  friendship,  I 
shall  take  myself  out  of  her  life  completely. 
I  ask  you  to  aid  me  in  watching  for  such 
indications  of  dawning  affection,  and  in  fore 
stalling  them." 

"  You  shall  have  all  the  assistance  you  need 
to  discover  and  do  your  real  duty,"  said  Dorothy. 
But  that  most  womanly  of  women  did  not  at  all 
share  Kilgariff's  interpretation  either  of  his  own 
duty  or  of  Evelyn's  sentiment  toward  him.  She 
knew  from  her  own  experience  that  a  woman 
grows  shy  and  reserved  with  a  man  the  moment 
she  understands  herself  to  be  in  love  with  him. 
But  equally  she  knew  that  love  may  long  con 
ceal  itself  even  from  the  one  who  cherishes  it, 
125 


EVELYN  BTRD 

and  that  reserve,  when  it  comes,  comes  altogether 
too  late  for  purposes  of  safeguarding. 

But  Dorothy  did  not  care.  She  wanted  these 
two  to  love  each  other,  and  she  saw  no  reason 
why  they  should  not.  She  recognised  their 
peculiar  fitness  for  each  other's  love,  and  as  for 
the  rest — wise  woman  that  she  was — she  trusted 
love  to  overcome  all  difficulties.  In  other  words, 
Dorothy  was  a  woman,  and  she  herself  had  loved 
and  mated  as  God  meant  that  women  should. 
So  she  was  disposed  to  let  well  alone  in  this 
case. 

Kilgariff's  wound  was  healing  satisfactorily 
now,  and  little  by  little  his  strength  was  coming 
back  to  him.  So,  every  day,  he  sat  in  the 
laboratory  with  Dorothy  and  Evelyn,  helping  in 
the  work  by  advice  and  suggestion,  and  often  in 
more  direct  and  active  ways.  For  Arthur  Brent 
had  written  to  Dorothy  :  — 

I  must  remain  with  the  army  yet  a  while  in  order 
to  keep  the  hospital  service  in  as  efficient  a  state  as 
adverse  circumstances  will  permit,  and  the  constant 
shiftings  from  one  place  to  another  render  this  diffi 
cult.  When  Kilgariff  grows  strong  enough,  set  him  at 
work  in  the  laboratory.  He  would  never  tell  you  so, 
but  he  is  a  better  chemist  than  I  am,  better  even  than 
126 


SOME  REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

you  in  some  respects.  Especially  he  is  expert  in 
shortening  processes,  and  the  army's  pressing  need  of 
medicines  renders  this  a  peculiarly  valuable  art  just 
now.  We  need  everything  at  every  hour,  but  espe 
cially  we  need  opium  and  its  products,  and  quinine  or 
quinine  substitutes.  Please  give  your  own  special  at 
tention  to  your  poppy  fields,  and  get  all  you  can  of 
opium  from  them.  Send  to  Richmond  all  the  product 
except  so  much  as  you  can  use  in  the  laboratory  in 
extracting  the  still  more  valuable  alkaloids. 

Another  thing  :  the  dogwood-root  bark  bitters  you 
are  sending  prove  to  be  a  valuable  substitute  for 
quinine.  Please  multiply  your  product  if  you  can. 
Enlist  the  services  of  your  friends  everywhere  in  sup 
plying  you  with  the  raw  material.  Get  them  to  set 
their  little  negroes  at  work  digging  and  drying  the 
roots,  so  that  you  may  make  as  much  of  the  bitters  as 
possible.  There  are  a  good  many  wild  cherry  trees  at 
Wyanoke  and  on  other  plantations  round  about. 
Won't  you  experiment,  with  KilgarifiPs  assistance,  and 
see  if  you  can't  produce  some  quinine?  Our  need  of 
that  is  simply  terrible.  Malaria  kills  five  times  as 
many  men  as  Federal  bullets  do,  and,  apart  from  that, 
hundreds  of  sick  or  wounded  men  could  be  returned 
to  duty  a  month  earlier  than  they  now  are  if  we  had 
quinine  enough.  Tell  Kilgariff  I  invoke  his  aid,  and 
you  '11  get  it. 

127 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Kilgariff  responded  enthusiastically  to  this 
appeal.  He  personally  investigated  the  quinine- 
producing  capacity  of  every  tree  and  plant  that 
grew  at  Wyanoke  or  in  its  neighbourhood. 

"The  dog  fennel,"  he  said  to  Dorothy,  "is 
most  promising.  It  yields  quinine  in  greater 
quantity,  in  proportion  to  the  time  and  labour 
involved,  than  anything  else  we  have.  Of  course, 
if  ours  were  a  commercial  enterprise,  it  would 
not  pay  to  attempt  any  of  these  manufactures. 
But  our  problem  is  simply  to  produce  medicines 
for  the  army  at  whatever  cost.  So  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  of  ordering  all  your  chaps"  —  the 
term  "chaps"  in  Virginia  meant  juvenile  ne 
groes —  "  to  gather  all  the  dog  fennel  they  can, 
and  to  dry  it  on  fence-rail  platforms.  I  am  hav 
ing  the  men  put  up  some  kettles  in  which  to 
steep  it.  The  rest  we  must  do  in  the  laboratory. 
Our  great  lack  is  that  of  kettles  enough." 

"Must  they  be  of  iron  ?  "  asked  Evelyn,  with 
earnest  interest.  "Must  they  have  fires  under 
them  ? " 

"  N-no,"  answered  Kilgariff,  hesitatingly.    "  I 

suppose   washtubs  or  anything  that  will   hold 

water  will  do.     We  must  use  hot  water  to  steep 

the  plants  in,  but  we  might  pour  hot  water  into 

128 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

vessels  in  which  we  could  n't  heat  it.  Yes, 
Evelyn,  any  sort  of  vessel  that  will  hold  water 
will  answer  our  purpose." 

"  Then  I  '11  provide  all  the  tanks  you  need,  if 
Dorothy  will  give  me  leave  to  command  the 
servant-men.  I  do  know  how." 

The  leave  was  promptly  given,  and  Evelyn 
instructed  the  negroes  how  to  make  staves  of 
large  proportions,  and  how  to  put  them  to 
gether.  Three  days  later,  with  an  adequate 
supply  of  these,  and  with  a  quantity  of  binding 
hoops  which  she  had  herself  fashioned  out  of 
hickory  saplings  to  the  utter  astonishment  of 
her  comrades,  the  girl  manufactured  a  number 
of  wooden  and  water-tight  tanks,  each  capable 
of  holding  many  scores  of  gallons. 

"Where  did  you  learn  to  do  that?"  Kilgariff 
asked,  when  the  first  of  the  tanks  was  set  up. 

"  Among  the  whale  fishermen,"  she  answered. 
"  But  I  must  n't  tell  you  about  that,  and  you 
must  n't  ask.  But  my  tanks  will  hold  oil  as 
well  as  water,  and  I  am  going  to  make  a  little 
one  for  castor  oil.  You  know  we  have  five 
acres-  in  castor  beans.  I  reckon  you  two  do 
know  how  to  make  castor  oil  out  of  them." 

"  Come  here,  Evelyn,  and  sit  down,"  said 
129 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Dorothy.  "  Of  course  we  know  how  to  extract 
castor  oil  from  the  beans,  but  we  don't  know 
where  or  how  you  got  your  peculiar  English. 
Tell  us  about  it." 

"  I  do  not  understand.  Is  my  English  not 
like  your  own  ?  " 

"  In  some  respects,  no.  When  you  volun 
teered  to  make  these  tanks  for  us,  you  said,  '  I 
do  know  how,'  and  now  you  say, '  You  do  know.' 
We  should  say,  '  I  know,'  and  '  You  know.' 
Where  did  you  get  your  peculiar  usage  ? " 

The  girl  flushed  crimson.  Presently  she 
answered  :  — 

"  It  is  that  I  have  not  been  taught.  Pardon 
me.  I  am  trying  to  learn.  I  do  listen  —  no,  I 
should  say  —  I  listen  to  your  speech,  and  I  try 
to  speak  the  same.  I  have  read  books  and 
tried  to  learn  from  them  what  the  right  speech 
is.  Am  I  not  learning  better  now?  I  try,  or  I 
am  trying  —  which  is  it?  And  the  big  book  — 
the  dictionary  —  I  am  studying.  I  never  saw  a 
dictionary  until  I  came  to  Wyanoke." 

"  Don't  worry,"  said  Kilgariff,  tenderly.  "  You 
speak  quite  well  enough  to  make  us  glad  to  listen." 

And  indeed  they  were  glad  to  listen.  For 
now  that  the  girl  had  become  actively  busy  in 
130 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELTN 

the  laboratory,  she  had  lost  much  of  her  shy 
reserve,  and  her  conversation  was  full  of  inspira 
tion  and  suggestiveness.  It  was  obvious  that 
while  her  instruction  had  been  meagre  and  ex 
ceedingly  irregular,  she  had  done  a  world  of 
thinking  from  such  premises  as  were  hers,  and 
the  thinking  had  been  sound. 

Her  ways  were  sweet  and  winning,  chiefly 
because  of  their  utter  sincerity,  and  they  fasci 
nated  both  Dorothy  and  Kilgariff. 

"  Kilgariff  must  marry  her,"  Dorothy  wrote 
to  Arthur  Brent.  "  God  evidently  intended 
that,  when  he  made  these  two ;  but  how  it  is  to 
come  about,  I  do  not  at  all  know.  Kilgariff 
has  some  foolish  notions  that  stand  in  the  way, 
but  of  course  love  will  overcome  them.  As  for 
Evelyn  —  well,  she  is  a  woman,  and  that  is 
quite  enough." 

Evelyn's  use  of  the  intensives,  'do'  and 
'  did '  and  the  like,  was  not  at  all  uniform. 
Often  she  would  converse  for  half  an  hour  with 
out  a  lapse  into  that  or  any  other  of  her  pecu 
liarities  of  speech.  It  was  usually  excitement 
or  embarrassment  or  enthusiasm  that  brought 
on  what  Dorothy  called  "  an  attack  of  dialect," 
and  Kilgariff  one  day  said  to  Dorothy  :  — 


EVELYN  ETRD 

"The  girl's  speech  'bewrayeth  her/  as  Peter's 
did  in  the  Bible." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  easy  and  perfectly  safe  to  infer 
from  her  speech  a  good  deal  of  her  life-history." 

"  Go  "on,  I  am  interested." 

"Well,  you  observe  that  she  has  almost  a 
phenomenal  gift  of  unconscious  imitation.  She 
has  been  with  you  for  only  a  very  brief  while, 
yet  in  the  main  her  pronunciation,  her  inflec 
tion,  and  even  her  choice  of  words  are  those  of 
a  young  woman  brought  up  in  Virginia.  She 
says  '  gyarden,'  '  cyart,'  and  the  like,  and  her 
a's  are  quite  as  broad  as  your  own  when  she 
talks  of  the  grass  or  the  basket.  Now  when 
she  lapses  into  her  own  dialect,  there  is  a 
distinctively  French  note  in  her  syntax,  from 
which  I  argue  that  she  has  lived  among  French- 
speaking  people  for  a  time,  catching  their  con 
struction.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  her  English 
is  so  good  that  I  cannot  think  her  life  has  been 
mainly  passed  among  French-speaking  people. 
Have  you  tried  her  in  French  itself  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  she  speaks  the  most  extraordinary 
French  I  ever  heard." 

"Well,  that  fits  in  with  the  other  facts. 
132 


SOME  REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

This  morning  she  spoke  of  a  hashed  meat  at 
breakfast  as  'pemmican,'  though  she  quickly  cor 
rected  herself  ;  she  often  uses  Indian  terms,  too, 
by  inadvertence.  Then  again,  her  accomplish 
ments  all  smell  of  the  woods.  Putting  all  things 
together,  I  should  say  that  she  has  spent  a  good 
deal  of  time  among,  or  at  least  in  frequent  con 
tact  with,  Canadian  Frenchmen  and  Indians." 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  said  Dorothy,  "and 
yet  some  part  of  her  life  has  been  passed  in 
company  with  a  well-bred  and  accomplished 
woman." 

"Your  body  of  facts,  please  ?"  said  Kilgariff. 

"  Her  speech,  for  one  thing ;  for  in  spite  of 
its  oddities  it  is  mainly  the  speech  of  a  culti 
vated  woman.  She  never  uses  slang;  indeed, 
I  'm  sure  she  knows  no  slang.  Her  construc 
tions,  though  often  odd,  are  always  grammati 
cal,  and  her  diction  is  that  of  educated  people. 
Then  again,  her  scrupulous  attention  to  per 
sonal  neatness  tells  me  much.  More  important 
still,  at  least  in  my  woman's  eyes,  is  the  fact 
that  she  perfectly  knows  how  to  make  a  bed 
and  how  to  make  the  most  of  the  little  orna 
ments  and  fripperies  of  a  room.  She  did  not 
learn  these  things  from  squaws  or  half-breeds. 
133 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Moreover,  she  does  needlework  of  an  exquisite 
delicacy  which  I  never  saw  matched  anywhere. 
That  tells  of  a  highly  bred  woman  as  an  influ 
ence  in  her  life  and  education." 

While  these  three  were  at  dinner  that  day, 
the  negro  head-man — for  even  in  his  enforced 
absence  Arthur  Brent  would  not  commit  his  au 
thority  over  his  negroes  to  the  brutal  instincts 
of  any  overseer  —  came  to  the  door  and  asked 
to  speak  with  "Mis'  Dorothy." 

"  Bring  me  a  decanter  and  a  glass,  Elsie,"  said 
Dorothy  to  the  chief  serving-maid.  She  poured 
a  dram  into  the  glass,  and  handed  it  to  the  girl. 

"  Take  that  out  to  Uncle  Joe,"  she  said,  "  and 
tell  him  to  come  in  after  he  has  drunk  it." 

It  was  a  peculiarity  of  the  plantation  negro  in 
Virginia  that  he  never  refused  a  dram  from  "  the 
gre't  house,"  and  yet  that  he  never  drank  to 
excess.  Those  negroes  that  served  about  the 
house  in  one  capacity  or  another  were  always 
supplied  with  money — the  proceeds  of  "tips" 
—  and  could  have  bought  liquor  at  will.  Yet 
none  of  them  ever  formed  the  drink  habit. 

When  Uncle  Joe  came  into  the  dining-room, 
he  had  a  number  of  matters  concerning  which 
he  desired  instruction.  When  these  affairs  had 
134 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELTN 

been  disposed  of,  and  Dorothy  had  directed  him 
to  slaughter  a  shoat  on  the  following  morning, 
the  mistress  asked  :  — 

"  How  about  the  young  mare,  Uncle  Joe  ? 
Are  you  ever  going  to  have  her  broken  ? " 

"  Well,  you  see,  Missus,  Dick  's  de  only  pus- 
son  on  de  plantation  what  dars  to  tackle  dat  dar 
mar',  an'  Dick  he  's  done  gone  off  to  de  wah  wid 
Mahstah.  'Sides  dat,  de  mar'  she  done  trowed 
Dick  hisse'f  tree  times.  Dey  simply  ain't  no 
doin'  nuffin'  wid  dat  dar  mar',  Missus.  I  reckon 
de  only  ting  to  do  wid  her  is  to  sell  her  to  de 
artillery,  whah  dey  don'  ax  no  odds  o'  no  hoss 
whatsomever.  She  's  five  year  ole,  an'  as  strong 
as  two  mules,  an'  nobody  ain't  never  been  able 
to  break  her  yit." 

"  Poor  creature !"  said  Evelyn.  "May  I  try 
what  I  can  do  with  her,  Dorothy  ? " 

"  You,  little  Missus  ? "  broke  in  Joe.  "  You 
try  to  tackle  de  iron-gray  mar'  ?  Why,  she  'd 
mash  you  like  a  potato  wid  her  foh-feet,  an'  den 
turn  roun'  an'  kick  you  to  kingdom  come  wid  de 
hind  par." 

"  May  I  try,  Dorothy  ?  "  the  girl  calmly  asked 
again,  quite  ignoring  Uncle  Joe's  prophecies  of 
evil. 

135 


EVRLTN  BTRD 

"  Had  n't  you  better  let  some  of  the  men  or 
boys  break  her  first  ?  " 

"  No.  To  me  it  is  plain  they  have  done  too 
much  of  that  already.  Let  me  have  her  as  she 
is.  Have  her  brought  up  to  the  house,  Uncle 
Joe,  soon  after  dinner,  with  nothing  on  her  but 
a  halter." 

"  Why,  little  Mis',  you  don'  know  —  " 

"  Do  precisely  as  I  tell  you,"  interrupted  the 
girl,  who  could  be  very  imperious  when  so 
minded. 

When  the  mare  was  brought,  she  was  striking 
viciously  at  the  negro  who  led  her.  With  ears 
laid  back  close  to  her  head,  and  with  the  whites 
of  her  eyes  showing  menacingly,  she  was  strik 
ing  out  with  her  hoofs  as  if  intent  upon  com 
mitting  homicide  without  further  delay. 

"  Turn  her  loose,  Ben,"  said  the  girl,  who  sat 
idly  in  the  porch  as  if  she  had  no  task  on  her 
hands.  "Then  go  away  from  her,  and  make 
all  the  rest  go  away,  too—  "  motioning  toward 
the  gang  of  little  negroes  who  had  assembled, 
"  to  see  de  iron-gray  mar'  kill  little  Missie." 

When  all  were  gone,  Evelyn  began  nibbling 
at  a  sugar  lump.  Presently,  after  the  mare  had 
discovered  that  she  was  quite  free  and  that  her 
136 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

tormentors  were  gone,  Evelyn  held  out  her  hand 
with  the  sugar  lump  in  its  palm.  The  animal 
was  obviously  unfamiliar  with  sugar  lumps,  but 
she  had  the  curiosity  which  is  commonly  —  per 
haps  erroneously  —  attributed  to  her  sex.  So, 
as  Evelyn  sat  on  the  bench  and  made  no  motion 
indicative  of  any  purpose  to  seize  the  halter,  the 
animal  presently  became  interested  in  the  ex 
tended  hand.  Little  by  little,  and  with  occa 
sional  snortings  and  recessions,  she  approached 
the  girl.  Finally,  finding  that  the  extended 
hand  was  not  moved,  she  nosed  the  sugar  lump, 
and  then  with  her  long,  flexible  tongue,  swept 
it  into  her  mouth. 

Evelyn  did  not  withdraw  the  hand  at  once, 
but  held  it  extended  till  the  mare  had  got  the 
full  flavour  of  the  sweet.  Meanwhile,  she  cooed 
to  the  animal  soothingly,  and,  after  a  little,  she 
produced  a  second  sugar  lump  and  laid  it  upon 
the  extended  palm.  This  time,  as  the  mare 
took  the  dainty,  Evelyn,  still  talking  soothingly, 
ventured  with  her  other  hand  to  stroke  the 
beast's  silky  nose,  caressingly.  There  was  a 
shrinking  back  on  the  part  of  the  timid  creature, 
but  the  lure  of  the  sugar  was  enticing,  and  after 
once  the  gentle  hand  had  stroked  the  mare's 
137 


EVELYN  BTRD 

face,  she  seemed  rather  to  welcome  than  to 
resent  the  caress. 

Thus,  little  by  little,  did  the  girl  establish  rela 
tions  of  amity  between  herself  and  the  spirited 
mare.  After  a  while,  Evelyn  quitted  her  seat, 
went  out  upon  the  lawn,  and  with  a  sugar-lump 
bribe  tempted  the  animal  to  approach  her. 
Then  she  stroked  its  head  and  neck  and  sides, 
gradually  giving  it  to  understand  that  she  meant 
no  harm  and  accustoming  it  to  the  pleasant 
touch  of  her  hands.  Finally  she  stroked  its  legs 
vigorously,  and  lifted  one  foot  after  another, 
examining  each. 

By  this  time  the  mare  seemed  to  have  con 
cluded  that  the  young  woman,  who  talked  cease 
lessly  in  her  cooing,  contralto  voice,  was  an 
altogether  pleasant  acquaintance.  Wherever 
the  girl  went,  around  the  grounds,  the  mare 
followed,  nosing  her  and  seemingly  soliciting 
her  attention. 

At  last  the  girl  tolled  the  mare  to  a  horse 
block,  and  for  a  time  stood  upon  it,  gently 
stroking  her  silky  back. 

Then  she  made  a  motion  as  if  to  sit  upon  that 
shapely  back.  The  mare  shied  away,  perhaps 
remembering  former  attempts  of  the  kind  which 
138 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

she  had  resented  as  indignities.  But  as  Evelyn 
did  not  insist  upon  her  apparent  purpose,  and  as 
the  mare  was  by  this  time  very  much  in  sympa 
thy,  if  not  in  love,  with  the  gentle  girl,  she  pres 
ently  sidled  back  into  position,  and  Evelyn 
seated  herself  upon  her  back,  at  the  same  time 
caressingly  stroking  the  sides  of  her  neck.  She 
had  neither  saddle  on  which  to  sit  securely,  nor 
bridle  with  which  to  control  her  mount,  but  there 
was  no  need  of  either.  The  mare  was  nibbling 
grass  by  this  time,  and  Evelyn  permitted  her  to 
do  so,  letting  her  wander  about  the  house  grounds 
at  will,  in  search  of  the  most  succulent  tufts. 
As  the  supper  hour  drew  near,  the  girl  slipped 
from  the  animal's  back  and  led  the  way,  the 
animal  following,  to  the  stables.  There,  with 
her  own  hands  she  filled  the  manger  and  the  hay 
rack,  and  after  an  affectionate  farewell  to  her 
new  friend,  returned  to  the  house.  But  first  she 
said  to  Ben,  the  hostler  :  — 

"  Let  nobody  feed  the  mare  but  me.  I  will 
be  at  the  stables  in  time  in  the  morning.  And 
let  nobody  touch  her  with  a  currycomb.  I  will 
myself  attend  to  all." 

Three  or  four  days  later  the  high-spirited  mare 
was  Evelyn  Byrd's  very  humble  servant  indeed. 
139 


EVELYN  BTRD 

The  girl  rode  her  everywhere,  teaching  her  a 
number  of  pretty  tricks,  the  most  astonishing  of 
which  was  the  art  of  lifting  a  gate  latch  with 
her  teeth,  and  letting  herself  and  her  rider 
through  the  many  barriers  that  Virginian  law 
accommodatingly  permitted  planters  to  erect 
across  the  public  roads. 

"  But  how  did  you  learn  all  this  ?  "  asked  Kil- 
gariff,  full  of  interest. 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know.  I  reckon  I  never  learned 
it  at  all.  You  see,  the  animals  fight  us  only  be 
cause  they  think  we  mean  to  fight  them.  So 
long  as  they  are  afraid  of  us,  they  fight,  of 
course.  When  they  learn  that  we  are  friendly, 
they  are  glad  to  be  friends.  Anybody  can  tame 
any  animal  if  he  goes  to  work  in  the  right  way. 
I  once  tamed  a  Canada  lynx,  and  it  became  so 
used  to  me  that  I  let  it  sleep  on  the  foot  of  my 
bed.  But  the  lynx  has  a  great  deal  of  sense 
and  very  little  affection,  while  a  horse  has  a 
great  deal  of  affection  and  very  little  sense. 
With  the  lynx,  I  appealed  to  its  good  sense, 
but  I  did  never — I  mean,  I  never  trusted  its 
affection. 

"  I  have  treated  this  mare  like  a  baby  that  does 
not  understand  much,  but  I  have  won  its  affec- 
140 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF  EVELYN 

tion  completely,  and  I  trust  that.  The  animal 
has  so  little  sense  that  it  would  scare  at  a 
scrap  of  paper  lying  in  the  road,  and  go  almost 
frantic  if  it  saw  a  man  pulling  a  buggy.  But 
if  I  were  on  its  back,  it  would  not  run  or  do 
anything  that  might  throw  me  off.  You  see, 
one  must  know  which  is  stronger  in  each  ani 
mal —  sense  or  sentiment.  With  a  horse  it  is 
sentiment,  so  I  curry  the  mare  myself,  talking 
to  her  all  the  while  in  a  loving  way,  and  I 
never  let  anybody  else  go  into  the  stall.  An 
other  thing :  a  horse  loves  liberty  better  than 
anything  else,  so  I  have  taken  off  the  halter 
with  which  the  mare  used  to  be  tied  in  her 
stall,  and,  as  you  know,  I  turn  her  loose  every 
morning  when  she  has  finished  her  fodder,  and 
she  follows  me  up  here  to  the  house  grounds 
where  she  is  perfectly  free  to  nibble  grass, 
But  she  loves  me  so  much  that  she  often  quits 
the  grass  and  comes  up  here  to  the  porch  just 
to  get  me  to  rub  her  nose  or  stroke  her  neck. 
She  is  strong,  and  I  am  light,  so  she  likes  me  to 
sit  upon  her  back,  as  you  have  seen  me  do  for 
an  hour  at  a  time.  She  does  n't  quite  like  a 
saddle  yet  —  and  neither  do  I.  I  would  never 
use  anything  more  than  a  blanket,  just  for  the 
141 


EVELYN  BTRD 

protection  of  my  clothes,  only  that  Dorothy 
thinks  that  people  would  wonder,  if  I  should  go 
visiting  or  to  church  riding  bareback.  Why  do 
people  wonder  in  that  way,  Mr.  Kilgariff,  about 
other  people's  doings  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  know,  unless  it  is 
that  we  are  all  like  the  Pharisee  in  the  parable, 
and  want  to  emphasise  our  own  superiority  by 
criticising  others." 

"  But  why  should  n't  the  others  criticise,  too  ? 
The  ways  of  the  people  they  criticise  are  no 
more  different  from  their  ways,  than  their  ways 
are  different  from  those  of  the  people  they  criti 
cise.  I  confess  I  don't  quite  understand." 

"  Neither  do  I,  Evelyn,  except  that  it  is  the 
habit  of  people  to  set  up  their  own  ways  as  a 
standard  and  model,  and  to  regard  every  depar 
ture  from  them  as  a  barbarism.  If  it  were  not 
an  accepted  fact  that  the  Venus  of  Milo  is  the 
most  perfect  exemplification  we  have  of  feminine 
beauty,  and  that  it  is  the  fashion  to  go  into  rap 
tures  over  that  piece  of  sculpture,  I  imagine 
that  nine  fashionable  women  in  every  ten  would 
ridicule  the  way  in  which  her  hair  is  done  up, 
simply  because  they  do  not  do  up  theirs  in  the 
same  way." 

142 


SOME   REVELATIONS   OF   EVELYN 

"Yes,  I  know,"  answered  the  girl,  dreamily, 
and  as  if  in  a  reverie.  "  That  was  the  trouble 
in  the  circus." 

"  In  the  circus  ?     What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Nothing.     Don't  ask  me." 


143 


IX 

THE    GREAT    WAR    GAME 

LL   this  while  the  war  was  going  on 
tremendously  and  Kilgariff  was  chaf 
ing  at  the  restraint  of  a  wound  which 
forbade  him  to  bear  his  part  in  it. 

As  we  have  seen,  General  Grant  had  crossed 
into  the  Wilderness  with  a  double  strategic  pur 
pose.  He  had  hoped  to  turn  Lee's  right  flank 
and  compel  the  surrender  of  the  Army  of  North 
ern  Virginia.  Failing  in  that,  he  had  hoped, 
with  his  enormously  superior  numbers,  to  crush 
and  destroy  Lee's  army  in  battle. 

He  had  failed  in  that  purpose  also.  By  his 
promptitude  and  vigour  in  assailing  Grant's 
army  in  flank,  Lee  had  compelled  his  adversary 
to  abandon  his  flanking  purpose,  and  to  with 
draw  his  advance  columns  over  a  distance  of 
more  than  ten  miles  in  order  to  reinforce  his 
sorely  beset  divisions  in  the  Wilderness  and  to 
144 


THE    GREAT   WAR    GAME 

save  his  own  array  from  the  destruction  he  had 
hoped  to  inflict  upon  his  adversary. 

After  suffering  a  far  heavier  loss  than  he 
inflicted,  Grant  had  summoned  reinforcements 
and  moved  by  his  left  flank  to  Spottsylvania 
Court  House.  By  this  movement  he  had  again 
hoped  to  turn  Lee's  right  flank,  place  himself 
between  the  Confederates  and  their  capital,  and 
in  that  way  compel  the  surrender  or  dispersal 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  Again  he 
had  been  foiled  by  Lee's  alertness  and  by  the 
marvellous  mobility  of  an  army  that  moved 
without  a  baggage-train,  and  whose  men  carried 
no  blankets,  no  extra  clothing,  no  overcoats,  no 
canteens,  no  tin  cups,  no  cooking-utensils  — 
nothing,  in  fact,  except  their  rifles  and  their 
ammunition. 

Those  men  were  on  the  verge  of  starvation 
all  the  while.  Often  they  had  no  rations  at 
all  for  two  days  or  more  at  a  time.  When  ra 
tions  were  fullest,  they  consisted  of  one,  two,  or 
three  hard-ta::k-  biscuits  a  day  for  each  man, 
and  perhaps  a  diminutive  slice  of  salt  pork  or 
bacon,  which  was  eaten  raw. 

But  these  men,  who  had  formerly  fought  with 
the  courage  of  hope,  inspired  by  splendid  vic- 
H5 


EVELYN  BTRD 

tory,  were  fighting  now  with  the  courage  of 
utter  despair.  A  great  wave  of  religious  fervour 
had  passed  over  the  army  and  the  South.  It 
took  upon  itself  the  fatalistic  forms  of  Calvin 
ism,  for  the  most  part.  The  men  of  the  army 
came  to  believe  that  every  event  which  occurs 
in  this  world  was  foreordained  of  God  to  occur, 
decreed  "  before  ever  the  foundations  of  the 
world  were  laid."  They  had  not  ceased  to  trust 
the  genius  and  sagacity  of  Lee,  but  they  had 
accepted  the  rule  and  guidance  of  a  greater  than 
Lee  —  of  God  Almighty  himself.  With  a  faith 
that  was  sublime  even  in  its  perversion,  these 
men  committed  themselves  and  their  cause  to 
God,  and  ceased  to  reckon  upon  human  proba 
bilities  as  factors  in  the  problem. 

There  were  prayer  meetings  in  every  tent  and 
at  every  bivouac  fire,  every  day  and  every  night. 
At  every  pause  in  the  fighting,  were  it  only  for 
a  few  minutes,  the  men  on  the  firing-line  threw 
themselves  upon  their  knees  and  besought  God 
to  crown  their  efforts  and  their  arms  with  vic 
tory,  submissively  leaving  it  to  Him  to  deter 
mine  the  where,  the  when,  the  how.  And  in 
this  worship  of  God  and  this  absolute  depend 
ence  upon  His  will  the  men  of  that  army  learned 
146 


THE    GREAT  WAR    GAME 

to  regard  themselves  personally  as  mere  pawns 
upon  the  chess-board  of  the  divine  purpose. 
They  came  to  regard  their  own  lives  as  dust  in 
the  balance,  to  be  blown  away  by  the  breath  of 
God's  will,  to  be  sacrificed,  as  fuel  is,  for  the 
maintenance  of  a  flame. 

Believing  firmly  and  without  question  that 
their  cause  was  in  God's  charge,  they  executed 
every  order  given  to  them  with  an  indifference 
to  personal  consequences  for  the  like  of  which 
one  may  search  history  in  vain. 

In  his  movement  from  the  Wilderness  to 
Spottsylvania,  General  Grant  again  failed  to 
turn  the  flank  of  his  wily  adversary,  and,  after 
a  prolonged  endeavour  to  break  and  destroy 
Lee's  army  there,  the  Federal  commander  again 
moved  by  his  left  flank,  in  the  hope  of  reaching 
Hanover  Court  House  in  advance  of  the  arrival 
there  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

Again  he  was  baffled  of  his  purpose.  Again 
Lee  got  there  first,  and  took  up  a  position  in 
which,  by  reason  of  the  river's  tortuous  course 
and  the  conformation  of  the  ground,  Grant  could 
not  assail  him  without  dividing  his  own  army 
into  three  parts,  no  one  of  which  could  be  de 
pended  upon  to  support  either  of  the  others. 
147 


EVELYN  BTRD 

At  one  point  the  Federal  general  very  nearly 
succeeded.  There  was  a  bridge  across  the 
stream  near  Hanover  Court  House.  If  that 
could  be  seized,  the  Federal  forces  might  cross 
and  assail  Lee's  left  flank  with  effect.  A  strong 
column  of  Federals  was  thrown  forward  to  pos 
sess  the  bridge,  and  for  a  time  it  looked  as  if 
they  would  succeed  and  bring  the  war  to  an 
end  right  there. 

But  two  Confederate  batteries  —  utterly  un 
supported —  were  thrown  forward.  One  was 
Captain  Pollard's ;  the  other  was  a  battery  from 
the  battalion  of  Major  Baillie  Pegram.  Ad 
vancing  at  a  full  run,  the  two  batteries  planted 
their  guns  at  the  head  of  the  bridge,  just  as  the 
Federal  columns  were  beginning  to  cross  it,  and 
within  five  minutes  the  bridge  had  ceased  to  be. 

Has  the  reader  ever  seen  Shepard's  spirited 
painting  called  "Virginia,  1864"?  The  sketch 
from  which  that  painting  was  made  was  drawn 
on  this  hotly  contested  field,  the  artist  having 
three  pencils  carried  away  from  his  grasp  by 
rifle  bullets  and  half  a  dozen  rents  made  in  his 
drawing-paper  while  he  worked. 

Thus,  for  the  third  time  baffled  in  his  effort 
to  place  his  army  between  Lee  and  Richmond, 
148 


THE    GREAT  WAR    GAME 

Grant  moved  again  by  his  left  flank  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  Cold  Harbour,  where  one  of 
the  severest  battles  of  the  seven  days'  fight 
between  Lee  and  McClellan  had  been  waged. 

Again  Lee  discovered  his  purpose,  and  again 
he  got  there  first.  He  seized  upon  a  line  of 
hills  and  hastily  fortified  them.  He  was  now 
in  front  of  Richmond  and  only  a  few  miles  in 
advance  of  that  city's  defences.  He  thought 
it  not  imprudent,  therefore,  to  call  to  his  assist 
ance  such  troops  as  were  engaged  in  garrison 
ing  the  works  about  Richmond ;  thus  for  the 
first  time  in  all  that  strenuous  campaign  having 
an  opportunity  in  some  small  degree  to  make 
good  the  waste  of  war,  by  way  of  preparing  him 
self  to  meet  an  enemy  who  had  been  reinforced 
almost  daily  since  the  beginning  of  the  campaign, 
and  whose  army  at  that  time  out-numbered  the 
Confederate  force  by  more  than  three  to  one. 

At  Lee's  back  lay  the  now  bridgeless  Chicka- 
hominy  —  an  erratic  stream  which  might  at  any 
moment  cut  him  off  from  all  possibility  of  re 
treat.  If  Grant  could  defeat  him  where  he  lay, 
or  even  seriously  cripple  him,  the  pathway  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  into  Richmond  would 
be  scarcely  at  all  obstructed. 
149 


EVELYN  BTRD 

In  hope  of  this  result,  Grant  determined  upon 
an  assault  in  force.  In  the  gray  of  the  morn 
ing  of  June  3,  he  assailed  Lee  with  all  of  im 
petuosity  and  all  of  force  that  an  army  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men  could 
bring  to  bear  against  an  army  of  less  than  fifty 
thousand. 

The  result  was  disastrous  in  the  extreme 
to  the  Federals.  They  marched  into  a  very 
slaughter  pen,  where  they  lost  about  ten  thou 
sand  men  within  twenty  minutes,  for  the  reason 
that  Lee  had  previously  discovered  their  pur 
pose  and  had  prepared  himself  to  receive  their 
onslaught  with  all  the  enginery  of  slaughter. 

In  effect,  this  disaster  to  the  Federal  arms 
ended  the  field  campaign  of  1864.  It  had  been 
four  times  demonstrated  that  in  strategy  Lee 
was  more  than  a  match  for  his  adversary.  It 
had  been  four  times  demonstrated  that  in  field 
fighting  the  little  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
could  not  be  overcome  by  the  force,  three  times 
as  great,  which  Grant  had  so  often  and  so  de 
terminedly  hurled  against  it. 

There  was  nothing  left  to  the  Federal  com 
mander  except  to  besiege  Richmond,  either 
directly  on  the  north  and  east,  or  indirectly  by 
150 


THE   GREAT   WAR    GAME 

way  of  Petersburg,  twenty-two  miles  south  and 
commanding  the  main  lines  of  Confederate  mili 
tary  communication. 

Butler  already  lay  on  the  south  side  of  the 
James  River  with  a  strong  detachment  and 
within  easy  striking  distance  of  Petersburg,  a 
city  defended  by  an  exceedingly  inadequate 
force  under  Beauregard.  Grant  ordered  But 
ler  to  seize  upon  Petersburg  quickly,  before  the 
place  could  be  defended.  If  that  plan  had  been 
successful,  Richmond  must  have  surrendered  or 
been  evacuated,  and  the  war  must  have  ended 
in  the  early  summer  of  1864,  instead  of  drag 
ging  its  slow  length  along  for  nearly  a  year 
more.  But  Beauregard's  extraordinary  alert 
ness  and  vigour  baffled  Butler's  purpose.  In 
spite  of  the  exceeding  meagreness  of  the  Con 
federate  defending  force,  before  Grant  could 
push  the  head  of  his  column  into  Petersburg, 
Lee  was  there ;  and  within  a  few  hours  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  equally  skilled  in 
the  use  of  bayonet  and  spade,  had  created  that 
slender  line  of  earthworks  behind  which  Lee's 
thin  and  constantly  diminishing  force  defended 
itself  for  two  thirds  of  a  year  to  come. 


X 

THE   LAW    OF   LOVE 

RS.    BRENT  —  "    Kilgariff   so  be- 
gan  a  sentence  one  morning. 

But    Dorothy    interrupted    him, 
quickly. 

"  Why  do  you  persist  in  addressing  me  in 
that  way  ? "  she  asked.  "  Are  we  not  yet  suffi 
ciently  friends  for  you  to  call  me  '  Dorothy/  as 
all  my  intimates  do  ?  You  know,  I  exacted  that 
of  Evelyn  in  the  first  moment  that  I  found  my 
self  fond  of  her  and  knew  that  she  loved  me." 

"  But  there  is  a  difference,"  answered  Kil 
gariff.  "  You  see  — 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  difference,  but  it  is  altogether 
on  the  side  of  my  contention.  Evelyn  is  much 
younger  than  I  am  ;  for  although,  as  you  know, 
I  am  still  only  twenty-four,  Evelyn  has  the  ad 
vantage  of  several  years  of  age.  She  thinks 
she  is  only  seventeen,  but  as  nearly  as  I  can 
figure  out  from  what  she  tells  me  she  must  be 
152 


THE   LAW   OF  LOVE 

approaching  nineteen.  However  that  may  be, 
you,  at  any  rate,  are  nearly  as  old  as  Arthur. 
You  and  he  have  been  intimates  all  your  lives, 
and  if  that  intimacy  is  well-founded,  I  see  no 
reason  why  you  should  not  include  me  in  it,  so 
far  at  least,  as  to  call  me  by  my  Christian  name. 
You  see,  I  was  '  Dorothy '  long  before  I  became 
'Mrs.  Brent,'  and  my  given  name  has  many 
pleasing  associations  in  my  ears.  My  father 
always  called  me  that.  So  did  my  mother,  after 
I  came  to  know  her.  Arthur  did  so,  too,  after  I 
learned  to  like  him  and  gave  him  leave.  Of 
course,  to  all  outsiders  I  am  '  Mrs.  Brent '  —  a 
name  that  I  am  proud  and  glad  to  bear,  because 
—  well,  because  of  Arthur.  But  to  the  insid 
ers —  to  my  friends  —  I  have  a  strong  inclina 
tion  to  be  just  '  Dorothy.'  Don't  you  think  you 
have  become  an  insider  ?  " 

Kilgariff  hesitated  for  a  time  before  answer 
ing.  Finally  he  said  :  — 

"  It  is  very  gracious  of  you  —  all  this.  But  I 
wonder  how  much  Arthur  has  told  you  about 
me  ?  " 

"  He  has  told  me  everything  he  knows,"  she 
answered,  with  an  added  touch  of  dignity.  "  We 
should  not  be  man  and  wife  if  either  were 
153 


EVELYN  BTRD 

capable  of  practising  reserve  with  the  other  in 
such  a  case  as  this." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  responded  Kilgariff.  "  I 
do  not  like  sailing  under  false  colours;  but,  as 
you  know  all,  why,  it  will  be  a  special  pleasure 
to  me  to  be  permitted  to  call  you  '  Dorothy.' >: 

"  Now,  what  were  you  going  to  say  when  I 
interrupted  you  ?  "  asked  Dorothy,  the  direct. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  forget." 

"  No,  you  don't,  or  at  least  you  can  remem 
ber  in  such  a  case.  So  think  a  bit,  Owen,  and 
tell  me  what  you  were  going  to  say.  It  was 
something  about  Evelyn." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  for  several  reasons.  For  one  thing, 
you  caught  sight  of  Evelyn  just  at  that  moment, 
as  she  was  teaching  her  mare  to  kneel  down  for 
her  to  mount.  You  heard  her  voice,  too,  as 
she  chided  the  mare  in  half  playful  fashion  for 
rising  too  abruptly  after  the  mount.  A  woman's 
voice  means  much  to  a  man  of  sensitive  nature. 
She  talks  in  just  that  way  to  the  children  —  my 
babies  —  and  their  liking  for  it  is  positively 
wonderful.  Only  this  morning  Mammy  and  I 
were  having  all  sorts  of  trouble  to  get  them  out 
of  their  bath.  Bob,  the  boy,  was  bent  upon 
154 


THE  LAW  OF  LOVE 

spending  the  rest  of  the  day  in  the  tub,  and  was 
disposed  to  raise  a  rumpus  over  every  effort  to 
lift  him  out,  and  Mildred,  girl-like,  took  her  cue 
from  her  '  big  brother.'  In  the  midst  of  the 
turmoil  Evelyn  came  in.  She  assumed  a  look 
of  astonishment,  which  attracted  Bob's  atten 
tion  and  for  the  moment  quieted  him.  Then 
she  said:  — 

"  '  Oh,  Bob  !  I  'm  sorry  you  're  bad.  But 
you  are.  You  're  very  bad  indeed,  so  I  must  n't 
tell  you  about  the  ten  little  Injuns.  You  're 
getting  to  be  bad  just  like  them.' 

"  By  that  time  she  had  lifted  the  boy  out  of 
the  tub  and  dried  him  and  slipped  a  garment 
upon  him,  he  not  protesting  in  the  least.  Then 
she  stood  him  up  in  her  lap,  and,  looking  at  him 
in  seeming  surprise,  she  exclaimed  :  — 

"  '  Why,  Bob  is  n't  bad  a  bit !  Evey  made  a 
great  big  mistake.  Evey  's  going  to  tell  Bob 
about  the  ten  little  Injun  boys.'  And  from 
that  moment  there  was  no  disturbance  in  the 
nursery  except  the  noise  of  joyous  laughter. 

"  I  said  to  her  :  — 

"'You  deal  with  them  just  as  if  they  were 
wild  animals  to  be  tamed.' 

"  She  answered  :  — 

155 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  '  So  they  are,  only  people  often  forget  it, 
cruelly.' ' 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Kilgariff ,  "  let  me  have 
your  other  reason,  or  reasons,  for  thinking  that 
what  I  set  out  to  say  had  some  reference  to 
Evelyn.  I  plead  guilty  to  your  charge  that  I 
caught  sight  of  Evelyn  teaching  the  mare,  and 
that  I  was  charmed  by  the  sweetness  and  sym 
pathetic  jollity  of  her  voice,  as  she  addressed 
the  animal  in  her  winning  way.  But  you  were 
going  to  offer  another  fact  in  support  of  your 
assumption.  What  was  it?" 

"  Why,  simply  that  you  had  n't  spoken  for 
ten  minutes  before  you  addressed  me.  You 
were  meditating,  and  whenever  you  meditate 
nowadays,  you  are  thinking  of  Evelyn." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Absolutely.  You  are  not  always  aware  of 
the  fact,  but  the  fact  is  always  there.  I  like  it 
to  be  always  there." 

"  Why,  Dorothy  ?  " 

"Why,  because  I  want  you  to  be  that  way 
with  Evelyn.  It  will  mean  happiness  in  the 
future  for  both  of  you." 

"  No  ;  it  will  mean  at  best  a  gently  mitigated 
unhappiness  to  me  —  and  I  shall  be  glad  of  the 
156 


THE  LAW  OF  LOVE 

gentle  mitigation.  To  her  it  will  mean  nothing 
more  than  a  pleasant  friendship.  I  do  not 
intend  that  it  ever  shall  mean  more  than  that 
to  her." 

"  But  why  not  ?  Why  should  it  not  mean 
everything  to  her  that  womanhood  longs  for  ? 
Why  should  you  not  win  Evelyn's  love  and 
make  her  your  wife  ?  I  never  knew  two  people 
better  fitted  to  make  each  other  happy,  and 
fortunately  you  have  possessions  in  Europe  and 
at  the  North  which  will  enable  you  to  take  a 
wife,  no  matter  how  disastrously  this  war  may 
end  for  us  of  the  South.  Believe  me,  Owen, 
in  creating  men  and  women,  God  intended  mar 
riage  and  happiness  in  marriage  for  the  com 
mon  lot  of  humanity.  He  does  not  give  it  to 
all  of  us  to  be  great,  or  to  achieve  great  things, 
or  to  render  great  services,  but,  if  we  hearken 
to  His  voice  as  it  whispers  within  us,  He  in 
tends  happiness  for  us,  and  His  way  of  giving 
happiness  is  in  marriage,  prompted  by  love. 
We  poor  mortals  interfere  with  Nature's  plan 
in  many  ways.  Especially  we  sin  by  'match 
making' — by  bringing  about  marriages  without 
love  and  for  the  sake  of  convenience  of  one 
kind  or  another.  We  wed  bonds  to  city  lots. 
157 


EVELYN  BTRD 

We  trade  girls  for  titles,  giving  a  money  boot 
We  profane  the  holiest  of  human  relations  in 
order  to  join  one  plantation  to  another,  or  to 
unite  two  distinguished  houses,  or  for  some 
other  equally  devilish  reason. 

"  It  is  the  best  thing  about  this  war  that  its 
tendency  is  to  obliterate  artificialities  and  re 
store  men  and  women  to  natural  conditions  — 
at  least  here  at  the  South.  Believe  me,  Owen, 
the  union  of  a  man  and  a  woman  who  really 
love  each  other,  is  the  crowning  fact  of  all 
existence.  You  and  I  are  somewhat  skilled  in 
science.  We  know  the  truth  that  Nature  is 
inimitably  attentive  not  only  to  the  preservation 
of  the  race,  but  to  its  improvement  also  ;  and 
we  know  that  Nature  takes  no  care  whatever 
of  the  individual,  but  ruthlessly  sacrifices  him 
for  the  sake  of  the  race.  Nature  is  right,  and 
we  are  criminally  wrong  when  we  thwart  her 
purposes,  as  we  do  when  we  make  marriages 
that  have  no  love  for  their  inspiration,  or  in  any 
way  bar  marriage  where  love  prompts  it.  I  am 
old-fashioned,  I  suppose,  but  old  fashions  are 
sometimes  good  fashions.  They  are  always  so 
when  they  are  the  outgrowths  of  natural  con 
ditions. 

158 


THE  LAW  OF  LOVE 

"  Now  put  all  that  aside.  I  have  had  my 
little  say.  Let  me  hear  what  it  was  that  you 
were  going  to  say  to  me  concerning  Evelyn.  I 
recognise  your  right,  as  you  do  not,  to  criticise 
in  that  quarter." 

"  Oh,  I  had  no  thought  of  criticising,"  an 
swered  Kilgariff.  "  On  the  contrary,  I  am  dis 
posed  to  think  you  and  I  have  made  a  valuable 
discovery  in  pedagogics." 

"  What  is  it  ? " 

"  Why,  that  the  best  way  to  teach  science  is 
backward." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  understand." 

"Well,  look  at  the  thing.  If  Evelyn  had 
been  sent  to  a  scientific  school  to  study  chemis 
try,  her  professor  would  have  set  her  to  study 
ing  a  book  of  general  principles.  Then,  after 
three  or  four  months  of  drudgery,  she  would 
have  been  permitted  to  perform  a  few  experi 
ments  in  the  laboratory,  by  way  of  illustrating 
and  verifying  what  the  book  had  told  her,  the 
greater  part  of  which  she  had  known  before 
she  began.  You  and  I  have  begun  at  the 
other  end.  We  have  set  Evelyn  to  do  practical 
work  in  the  laboratory.  I  remember  that  her 
first  task  was  to  wash  opium,  and  her  next  to 
159 


EVELYN  BTRD 

manufacture  blue  mass  out  of  rose  petals  and 
mercury.  Incidentally  we  explained  to  her  the 
general  principles  involved,  and  in  that  purely 
incidental  way  she  has  learned  her  general 
chemistry  so  thoroughly  within  a  few  weeks, 
and  without  opening  a  book,  that  she  could  pass 
any  examination  upon  it  that  any  college  pro 
fessor  could  put  up.  She  has  learned  more 
in  a  month  than  any  systematic  class  work  would 
have  taught  her  in  a  year." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  answered  Doro 
thy.  "  But  that  is  the  only  way  I  know.  It  is 
the  way  in  which  Arthur  taught  me." 

"  Yes,  I  should  suppose  that  Arthur  is  dis 
tinctly  a  man  of  original  genius.  He  knows 
how  to  get  things  done.  He  is  so  immeasurably 
the  superior  of  all  the  professors  I  ever  knew 
that  I  am  disposed  to  name  none  of  them  in 
comparison  with  him.  If  it  is  ever  my  lot  to 
undertake  the  teaching  of  science,  I  shall  adopt 
precisely  that  method.  And  I  do  not  see  why 
the  same  principle  should  not  be  applied  to 
other  departments  of  learning.  We  begin  at 
the  wrong  end.  The  teacher  makes  the  boy 
begin  where  he  himself  did.  I  think  Arthur's 
methods  immeasurably  better,  and  I  spoke  of 
1 60 


THE  LAW  OF  LOVE 

Evelyn's  case  only  as  an  illustration  of   their 
superiority.     That  young  woman  knows  much 

—  very  much  —  of  science  without  having  had 
any  formal  instruction  in  it  at  all.       She  has 
learned  it  in  the  natural  way,  and  she  is  deeply 
imbued  with  the  scientific  spirit.     Only  yester 
day  she  said  to  me,  in  answer  to  some  question 
of  mine,  that  she  'looked  straight  at  things,  and 
thought  about  them.'     I  cannot  imagine  a  more 
perfect  method  than  that. 

"And  what  book  ever  taught  her  what  she 
knows  about  animals  and  their  ways  ?  What 
lecturer  in  all  the  world  could  have  told  her 
how  to  subdue  that  wild  and  rebellious  mare 
as  she  has  done  ?  She  learned  all  that  simply 
by  '  looking  straight  at  things  and  thinking 
about  them.'  The  professional  horse-tamers 

—  Rarey  and  the  rest  —  set  to  work,  with  their 
mechanical  appliances,  to  convince  a  horse  that 
they   are  mightier  than   he  is.     They  succeed 
in   a    way.      They   make   the    horse   afraid    of 
them,  and  so  long  as  they  deal  with  him,  he 
submits,  in  fear  of  their  superior  power.     But 
let  a  timid  novice  undertake  to  ride  horses  thus 
broken,  or  to  drive  them,  and  disaster  comes. 
Evelyn's  way  is  incalculably  better  and  more 

161 


EVELYN  BTRD 

scientific.  She  has  studied  animals  and  learned 
to  understand  them  and  sympathise  with  them. 
She  makes  her  appeal  to  what  is  best  in  their  na 
tures,  not  to  what  is  worst,  and  she  gets  results 
that  no  horse-tamer  of  them  all  could  ever  hope 
for.  The  horse-tamer's  processes  belong  to  the 
domain  of  artifice.  Hers  are  purely  scientific." 

"Absolutely,"  answered  Dorothy;  "and  I 
often  wonder  where  she  learned  it  all,  or  rather 
where  she  got  her  inspiration,  for  it  is  not  so 
much  learning  as  a  natural  bent." 

"Well,  she  was  born  with  an  instinct  of 
truthfulness  for  one  thing,"  said  Kilgariff. 
"That  is  the  only  basis  of  the  scientific  tem 
perament.  I  observed  her  yesterday  trying  to 
tempt  a  fox  squirrel  out  of  one  of  the  trees. 
She  chirped  to  him  in  her  peculiar  fashion,  and, 
in  response  to  her  invitation,  he  would  run  down 
as  far  as  the  root  of  the  tree  ;  but  there  he  would 
pause  and  shrewdly  reconnoitre,  after  which  he 
would  run  back  up  the  tree. 

" '  Why  don't  you  hold  out  your  hand  ? '  I 
asked. 

"She  quickly  answered  : — 

"'That  would  be  lying  to  him.  Whenever  I 
hold  out  my  hand  to  him,  I  have  something  in 
162 


THE   LAW   OF   LOVE 

it  for  him  to  eat.  If  I  held  it  out  empty,  I 
should  be  saying  there  was  something  for  him 
to  eat  in  it,  and  that  would  be  a  lie.  He  would 
come  to  me  then  and  find  out  that  I  had  de 
ceived  him.  You  do  quit  believing  —  pardon 
me  —  you  quit  believing  —  anybody  that  tells 
you  lies.' 

"  I  admitted  my  propensity  to  distrust  un 
truthful  persons,  and  she  gravely  asked:  — 

"  '  Why  then  do  you  wish  me  to  deceive  the 
poor  little  squirrel  ?  Do  you  want  him  to  think 
me  a  person  not  to  be  trusted  ? ' 

"  I  made  some  lame  excuse  about  his  being 
only  a  dumb  animal,  and  she  quickly  re 
sponded  :  — 

" '  But  dumb  animals  are  entitled  to  truth 
fulness,  are  they  not,  particularly  when  we  ask 
them  to  confide  in  us  ?  I  should  be  ashamed  of 
you,  Monsieur ' -—you  know  she  always  calls 
me  'Monsieur'  when  she  is  displeased  with  me 
—  'if  I  did  not  understand.  The  human  people 
do  not  know  the  animals  —  how  trustful  they 
want  to  be  if  only  we  would  let  them.  We  set 
traps  for  them,  we  deceive  them  in  a  hundred 
ways,  and  that  is  why  they  distrust  us.  I  did 
read  a  few  days  ago  —  you  smile,  Monsieur; 
163 


EVELYN  BTRD 

I  should  say,  I  read  the  other  day  —  that 
the  wild  creatures  are  selfish,  that  they  care 
for  us  only  as  a  source  of  food  supply.  That 
is  not  true,  as  that  squirrel  shall  teach  you.  It 
is  true  that  all  the  wild  creatures  are  hungry  all 
the  time.  There  is  not  food  enough  for  all  of 
them,  and  so  when  we  offer  them  food,  they 
come  to  us,  even  in  fear.  They  have  many  of 
their  young  to  feed,  and  their  supplies  are  very 
scant.  That  is  why  they  congregate  around 
houses  where  there  is  waste  thrown  out.  But 
oh,  Monsieur,  many  hundreds  of  them  do  starve 
to  death  in  the  long  winters.  You  notice  that 
in  the  spring  there  are  a  dozen  robins  on  the 
lawn ;  in  the  early  summer,  when  they  have 
brought  forth  their  broods,  there  are  scores  and 
hundreds  of  them.  But  in  the  next  spring  there 
are  only  the  dozens  again.  The  rest  have  per 
ished  of  cold  and  hunger.  I  have  been  reading 
Mr.  Darwin's  book,  and  I  know  that  this  is  the 
universal  law  of  progress,  of  advancement  by 
the  struggle  for  existence,  and  the  survival  of 
the  fittest  under  the  law  of  heredity.  But  it  is 
very  cruel.  That  is  n't  what  I  wanted  to  say. 
I  wanted  to  show  you  that  even  the  wild  crea 
tures  —  hungry  as  they  always  are  —  have  affec- 
164 


THE  LAW   OF  LOVE 

tion.  I  am  going  to  make  that  squirrel  come  to  me 
and  sit  on  my  shoulder  without  giving  him  any 
food  as  a  temptation.  You  shall  see.  After 
that,  I  will  give  him  plenty  to  eat.' 

"  And  she  did.  She  wheedled  the  squirrel 
till  he  came  down  his  tree,  crossed  the  lawn, 
and  invaded  her  lap.  It  was  only  then  that 
she  gave  him  the  peanuts  with  which  she  had 
filled  her  pockets.  I  tell  you  that  girl  is  a  born 
scientist,  and  that  her  knowledge  is  wonderful. 
Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  the  squirrels  and 
birds  that  seem  so  happy  here  in  the  Wyanoke 
grounds  are  habitually  in  a  state  of  starvation  ?  " 

Just  then  Evelyn  came  walking  toward  the 
porch.  The  mare  was  closely  following  her, 
and  a  squirrel  perched  upon  one  shoulder, 
while  a  robin  clung  to  the  other.  She  had 
pockets  in  her  gown  —  she  insisted  upon  pock 
ets —  and  from  these  she  fed  the  wild  crea 
tures.  Upon  getting  a  nut,  the  squirrel  leaped 
to  the  ground,  and  upon  receiving  a  bit  of 
bread,  the  robin  flew  away. 

"You  see,"  said  Kilgariff,  "how  coldly  selfish 
and  calculating  your  wild  creatures  are.  The 
moment  they  get  something  to  eat,  they  quit 
your  hospitality." 

165 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"Not  so,  Monsieur,"  the  girl  answered. 
"  They  have  their  babies  to  feed.  They  will 
come  back  to  me  when  that  is  done,"  and 
they  did. 

"Touch  the  squirrel,"  she  said  to  Kilgariff, 
"  and  he  will  fasten  his  long  teeth  in  your 
flesh.  But  I  may  stroke  his  fur  as  much  as  I 
please.  That  is  because  he  has  made  friends 
with  me.  And  see !  The  robin  is  a  wild  bird. 
His  first  instinct  is  to  keep  his  wings  free  for 
flying.  Yet  I  may  take  him  thus"  —  possess 
ing  herself  of  the  bird  —  "  and  lay  him  on  his 
back  in  my  lap,  so  that  his  wings  are  useless 
to  him,  and  he  does  not  mind.  It  is  because 
he  knows  me  for  his  friend  and  trusts  me. 
Ah,  if  only  people  would  learn  to  know  the 
wild  creatures  and  teach  them  the  lesson  of 
love !  " 

Kilgariff  felt  like  saying,  "  I  know  no  such 
teacher  of  that  lesson  as  you  are,"  but  he  re 
frained,  and  so  it  fell  to  Dorothy  afterward  to 
say  :  — 

"  Not  many  people  have  your  gift,  dear,  of 
making  other  creatures  love  them." 

"  But  you  have  it,"  the  girl  answered  enthusi 
astically.  "  Oh,  how  I  do  love  you,  Dorothy !  " 
1 66 


7 


.If AT  STROKE  HIS   FUR   AS 
MUCH  AS   I  /'LEASE." 


XI 

ORDERS    AND    "NO    NONSENSE" 

WHEN  General  Grant,  with  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty  thousand  men,  sat 
down  before  Petersburg  and   Rich 
mond  and  called  for  reinforcements  as  a  neces 
sary  preliminary  to  further  operations,  his  plan 
was  obvious,  and  its  ultimate  outcome  was  nearly 
as  certain  as  any  human  event  can  be  before  it 
has  happened. 

Richmond  lies  on  the  north  bank  of  the  James 
River.  Petersburg  lies  on  the  Appomattox 
River  twenty-two  miles  due  south  of  Richmond. 
Each  river  is  navigable  up  to  the  gates  of  the 
city  situated  upon  it,  so  that  in  besieging  the 
two  cities  from  the  east,  General  Grant  had  an 
uninterrupted  water  communication  over  which 
to  bring  supplies  and  reinforcements  at  will. 
His  line  of  fortifications  stretched  from  a  point 
on  the  north  of  Richmond,  eastwardly  and  south- 
167 


EVELYN  BTRD 

wardly  to  the  James  River,  and  thence  south 
wardly,  with  a  westerly  trend,  to  a  point  south  of 
Petersburg.  A  rude  outline  map,  which  accom 
panies  the  text,  will  give  a  clearer  understanding 
than  words  can. 

A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  the  reader 
three  lines  of  railway  upon  which  Richmond 
depended  for  communication  with  the  South  and 
for  supplies  for  Lee's  army.  All  of  them  lay 
south  of  the  James  River. 

Grant's  problem  was  to  break  these  three  lines 
of  railway,  and  thus  to  compel  Richmond's  sur 
render  or  evacuation.  If  he  could  break  the 
Weldon  railway  first,  and  the  others  later,  as  he 
purposed,  his  vastly  superior  army  at  the  time 
of  Richmond's  evacuation  could  be  easily  inter 
posed  between  Lee  and  any  point  farther  south 
to  which  the  Confederate  commander  might  plan 
to  retreat. 

That  is  what  actually  happened  eight  months 
later,  with  Lee's  surrender  at  Appomattox  Court 
House  as  the  outcome  of  this  successful  strategy. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Lee,  with  less  than  forty 

thousand  men,  was  called  upon  to  defend  a  line 

more  than  thirty  miles  long  against  an  enemy 

whose  numbers  were  three  or  four  times  his  own, 

1 68 


Sketch  Map  showing  Lee's  and  Grant's  lines  about 
Richmond  and  Petersburg 

169 


EVELYN  BTRD 

and  whose  capacity  of  reinforcement  was  almost 
limitless. 

Still  more  important  was  the  fact  that  Lee 
must  stand  ready,  by  day  and  by  night,  to  de 
fend  every  point  on  this  long  line,  while  his 
adversary,  with  the  assistance  of  ships  and  rail 
roads  in  his  rear,  could  concentrate  irresistible 
forces  at  any  point  he  pleased  and  at  any  time 
he  pleased,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  Con 
federate  commander.  To  the  military  on-looker 
it  appeared  easy  for  Grant  to  break  through 
Lee's  lines  whenever  he  pleased,  by  hurling  an 
overwhelming  force  with  irresistible  momentum 
against  any  part  of  the  attenuated  thread  that 
he  might  elect,  breaking  through  with  certainty 
and  entire  ease. 

Such  would  have  been  the  case  but  for  the 
splendid  fighting  quality  of  that  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  which  was  struggling  almost 
literally  in  its  "last  ditch."  Time  after  time 
Grant  massed  his  forces  and  threw  them  with 
all  his  might  against  the  weakest  points  he 
could  find  in  Lee's  defensive  lines,  only  to  be 
baffled  and  beaten  by  a  fighting  force  that 
was  absolutely  unconquerable  in  its  obstinate 
determination. 

170 


ORDERS  AND   "NO   NONSENSE" 

But  Grant  had  other  arrows  in  his  well-stocked 
quiver.  His  enormous  superiority  in  numbers, 
and  his  easy  ability  to  manoeuvre  beyond  his 
adversary's  sight  or  ken,  made  it  possible  for 
him  continually  to  extend  his  lines  to  the  left ; 
pushing  south  and  west,  and  compelling  Lee  to 
stretch  out  his  already  slender  line  to  the  point 
of  hopeless  thinness. 

Grant  could  one  day  assail  the  defences  be 
low  Richmond  on  the  north  side  of  the  James 
River  in  vastly  superior  force,  and  the  next 
morning  at  daybreak  hurl  five  men  to  Lee's  one 
against  the  works  defending  the  Weldon  Rail 
road,  thirty  miles  or  more  to  the  south. 

Yet  even  under  these  conditions  the  brilliant 
Confederate  strategist  not  only  held  his  own, 
but  detached  from  his  all  too  meagre  force  a 
strong  column  under  Early,  and  sent  it  to  sweep 
the  valley  of  Virginia,  invade  Maryland,  and  so 
far  threaten  Washington  as  to  compel  Grant 
either  to  send  forces  for  the  defence  of  the 
Federal  capital  or  to  forego  for  the  time  being 
the  reinforcements  which  he  was  clamorously 
demanding  for  the  strengthening  of  his  lines  at 
Petersburg. 

Captain  Marshall  Pollard's  battery  was  in- 
171 


EVELYN  BTRD 

eluded  in  the  detail  of  troops  made  for  this 
final  and  despairing  invasion  of  the  country 
north  of  the  Potomac ;  and  when  the  battery 
marched,  Sergeant-major  Owen  Kilgariff  rode 
by  the  side  of  his  captain,  ready  for  any  duty 
that  might  fall  to  his  lot. 

The  wound  in  his  neck  was  not  yet  well,  or 
even  nearly  so,  but  he  was  quite  regardless  of 
self  in  his  eagerness  to  bear  his  part,  and  so,  in 
spite  of  all  the  warnings  of  all  the  doctors,  he 
had  rejoined  his  command  at  the  first  moment 
in  which  he  was  strong  enough  to  sit  upright  in 
the  saddle. 

Captain  Pollard  had  but  one  commissioned 
officer  with  him  on  this  dare-devil  expedition, 
and  that  one  officer  was  shot  in  the  first  skir 
mish,  so  that  Owen  Kilgariff,  non-commissioned 
officer  that  he  was,  was  second  in  command  of 
the  battery. 

Early's  column  swept  like  a  hurricane  down 
the  valley,  and  like  a  cyclone  burst  upon  Mary 
land  and  Pennsylvania.  It  marched  fearlessly 
wherever  it  pleased  and  fought  tremendously 
wherever  it  encountered  a  foe.  Its  invasion  of 
the  North  at  a  time  when  Grant  with  three  or 
four  men  to  Lee's  one  was  beleaguering  the 
172 


ORDERS  AND   "NO   NONSENSE" 

Southern  capital,  was  romantic,  gallant,  pictu 
resque,  startling.  But  it  did  not  accomplish  the 
purpose  intended.  It  was  Grant's  conviction 
that  Washington  City  could  take  care  of  itself ; 
that  the  authorities  there  had  force  enough  at 
command,  or  within  call,  to  meet  and  repel  a 
Confederate  invasion,  without  any  assistance 
from  him.  He,  first  of  all  Federal  generals, 
acted  upon  this  conviction,  and  refused  to 
weaken  his  lines  at  Petersburg  and  Richmond 
by  sending  any  considerable  forces  to  defend 
Washington  against  Early.  Grant  had  little  im 
agination,  but  he  had  a  great  fund  of  common 
sense. 

Only  one  considerable  action  was  the  outcome 
of  this  expedition.  In  a  minor  encounter  on 
the  day  before  the  battle  was  fought,  Captain 
Marshall  Pollard  lost  a  leg,  thus  leaving  his 
sergeant-major,  Owen  Kilgariff,  in  command 
of  the  battery,  reduced  now  to  four  guns,  with 
only  four  horses  to  each  piece  or  caisson. 

At  Monocacy,  Kilgariff  fought  the  guns  at 
their  best,  and  by  a  dash  of  a  kind  which  artil 
lery  is  neither  armed  nor  expected  to  make, 
captured  two  Federal  rifled  guns,  with  their 
full  complement  of  horses.  In  his  report  he 
173 


EVELYN  BTRD 

spoke  of  this  feat  of  arms  only  as  "an  oppor 
tunity  which  offered  to  add  two  guns  to  the 
battery  and  to  raise  the  tale  of  horses  to  the 
regulation  number  of  six  to  each  gun  and 
caisson." 

But  that  night  General  Early  sent  for  Kil- 
gariff,  in  response  to  that  non-commissioned 
officer's  request  that  a  commissioned  officer 
should  be  sent  to  take  command  of  the  battery. 

"  I  don't  see  the  necessity,"  said  Early,  in  his 
abrupt  way.  "  I  don't  see  how  anybody  could 
fight  his  guns  better  than  you  have  done.  Get 
yourself  killed  if  you  want  somebody  else  to 
command  Pollard's  battery.  So  long  as  you 
live,  I  shall  send  nobody  else.  How  does  it 
happen  that  you  have  n't  a  commission  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  covet  that  responsibility,"  Kilgariff 
answered  evasively. 

"Well,  that  responsibility  will  rest  on  your 
shoulders  from  this  hour  forth,  till  the  end  of 
this  campaign,  unless  you  escape  it  by  getting 
yourself  killed.  I  shall  certainly  not  send  any 
body  else  to  command  your  battery  while  you 
live.  From  this  hour  I  shall  regard  you  as 
Captain  Kilgariff;  and  when  I  get  myself  into 
communication  with  General  Lee  or  the  war 
174 


ORDERS  AND   "NO   NONSENSE" 

department,  I  '11  see  that  the  title  is  made 
good." 

"Thank  you,  General,"  answered  Kilgariff. 
"  But  I  sincerely  wish  you  would  n't.  I  have 
already  received  and  rejected  one  commission 
as  captain,  and  I  have  declined  a  still  higher 
rank  offered  me." 

"What  an  idiot  you  must  be!"  squeaked 
Early  in  his  peculiar,  falsetto  voice.  "  But  you 
know  how  to  fight  your  guns,  and  I  've  got  a 
use  for  such  men  as  you  are.  You  may  do  as 
you  please  after  this  campaign  is  over,  but  while 
you  remain  under  my  command  you  '11  be  a  cap 
tain.  I  '11  see  to  that,  and  there  '11  be  no  non 
sense  about  it,  either." 

An  hour  later,  an  order,  officially  signed  and 
certified,  came  to  Kilgariff.  It  read  in  this 
wise :  — 

SPECIAL  ORDER  No.  7.  Sergeant-major  Owen  Kil 
gariff,  of  Captain  Pollard's  Virginia  Battery,  is  hereby 
ordered  to  assume  command  of  said  Battery  as  Acting 
Captain,  and  he  will  exercise  the  authority  of  that 
rank  in  all  respects.  He  is  ordered  hereafter  to  sign 
his  reports  and  orders  as  "  Captain  Commanding," 
and  all  officers  concerned  are  hereby  directed,  by 
order  of  the  Commanding  General,  to  recognise  the 
175 


EVELYN  BTRD 

rank  thus  conferred,  not  only  in  matters  of  ordinary 
obedience  to  orders,  but  also  in  making  details  for 
court-martial  service  and  the  like.  This  temporary 
appointment  of  Captain  Kilgariff  is  made  in  recogni 
tion  of  peculiarly  gallant  and  meritorious  conduct,  and 
in  due  time  it  will  be  confirmed  by  the  War  Depart 
ment.  In  the  meanwhile  Captain  Kilgariff's  rank, 
commission,  and  authority  are  to  be  fully  recognised 
by  all  persons  concerned,  by  virtue  of  this  order. 

This  order  was  duly  signed  by  General  Early's 
adjutant-general,  as  by  his  command. 

There  was  nothing  for  Kilgariff  to  do  but 
obey  an  order  so  peremptory,  from  a  com 
mander  who  was  not  accustomed  to  brook  op 
position  with  patience.  Kilgariff's  first  thought 
was  to  send  through  the  regular  military  chan 
nels  a  written  protest  and  declination.  But  an 
insuperable  difficulty  stood  in  the  way.  Under 
Early's  order,  he  must  sign  that  document  not 
as  "  Sergeant-major,"  but  as  "  Captain."  Other 
wise,  his  act  would  be  of  that  contumacious  sort 
which  military  law  defines  as  "  conduct  subver 
sive  of  good  order  and  military  discipline." 

But  aside  from  that   consideration    was   the 
fact  that   General   Early  had  sent   Kilgariff  a 
personal  note,  in  which  he  had  written  :  — 
176 


ORDERS  AND   "NO   NONSENSE" 

I  have  issued  an  order  in  your  case.  Obey  it.  I 
don't  want  any  damned  nonsense. 

Kilgariff  was  too  good  a  soldier  to  protest 
further  while  the  campaign  under  Early  should 
continue.  He  meant  to  ask  excuse  later,  but 
for  the  time  being  there  was  nothing  for  him  to 
do  except  assume  the  captain's  rank  and  com 
mand  to  which  Early  had  thus  peremptorily 
assigned  him. 


177 


XII 


SAFE-CONDUCT   OF  TWO   KINDS 

AS    Early   was    slowly   making   his   way 
back   into   the    valley    of    Virginia  — 
fighting   wherever   there   was  a  force 
to    be    fought  —  there    came    a   messenger   to 
Owen  Kilgariff   one  night  a  little  before  mid 
night.     He  bore  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  these 
words  were  written  :  — 

Come  to  me  quickly.  I  am  mortally  wounded,  and 
it  is  very  necessary  for  me  to  see  you  before  I  die  — • 
not  for  my  sake,  for  you  'd  rejoice  to  see  me  in  hell, 
but  for  the  sake  of  others  and  for  your  own  sake  — 
though  for  yourself  you  don't  often  care  much.  I  'm 
in  a  farm-house  hospital  three  miles  south  of  Harper's 
Ferry  on  the  Martinsburg  road.  My  messenger  will 
guide  you.  The  Federals  have  possession,  of  course, 
but  the  bearer  of  this  note  has  a  safe-conduct  for  you. 
Of  course,  this  might  be  a  trick,  but  it  is  not.  On  the 
word  of  a  gambler  (and  you  know  what  that  means)  I 
am  playing  fair  this  time.  You  are  a  brave  enough 
man  to  risk  this  thing  anyhow.  Come  ! 
I78 


SAFE-CONDUCT  OF   TWO   KINDS 

This  note  bore  no  signature,  but  Owen  Kil- 
gariff  knew  the  hand  that  had  written  it.  That 
handwriting  had  sent  him  to  jail  once  upon  a 
time.  He  had  not  forgotten.  He  was  not  given 
to  forgetting. 

He  summoned  the  messenger  who  had 
brought  him  the  note. 

"  You  have  a  safe-conduct  for  me,  I  believe  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Yes,  Captain,"  and  he  produced  the  docu 
ment. 

"  How  did  you  manage  to  pass  our  picket 
lines  ?  Did  you  come  under  a  flag  of  truce  ? " 

"  No.  That  would  have  taken  time,  and  there 
is  no  time  to  be  wasted.  Major  Campbell  is 
terribly  wounded.  I  live  in  these  parts.  I  ain't 
a  soldier,  you  know.  So  I  slipped  through  the 
lines." 

For  a  moment  Kilgariff  regarded  the  fellow 
with  indignant  contempt.  Then  the  indignation 
passed,  and  the  contempt  was  intensified  in  his 
expression.  Presently  he  said  :  — 

"You  low-lived,  contemptible  hound,  I  can't 

make  up  my  mind  even  to  be  angry  with  you. 

You  and  your  kind  are  the  pest  in  this  war.    You 

haven't  character  enough  to  take  sides.     You 

179 


EVELYN  BTRD 

serve  either  side  at  will,  and  betray  both  with 
jaunty  indifference.  Now  listen  to  me.  Within 
twenty-four  hours  I  shall  see  Major  Campbell, 
who  sent  me  this  note.  But  I  shall  not  go  to 
him  under  the  safe-conduct  you  have  brought." 

With  that,  Kilgariff  tore  the  paper  to  bits  and 
scattered  its  fragments  to  the  night  wind. 

"  I  shall  order  you  sent  to  the  guard-house 
and  manacled,  until  General  Early  shall  have 
decided  what  to  do  with  you.  He  does  n't  like 
your  sort." 

The  man  fell  at  once  into  panic  and  pleaded 
for  his  life. 

"  Oh,  what  will  become  of  me  ?"  he  piteously 
moaned. 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  answered  Kilgariff, 
quite  as  if  the  question  had  related  to  the  dis 
position  to  be  made  of  some  inanimate  object. 
"  General  Early  may  have  you  shot  at  sunrise, 
or  he  may  decide  to  hang  you  instead.  I  don't 
at  all  know,  and  after  all  it  makes  no  real  dif 
ference.  The  one  death  is  about  as  painless  as 
the  other,  and  as  for  the  matter  of  disgrace,  of 
course  you  are  hopelessly  incapable  of  consid 
ering  that.  Perhaps  —  oh,  well,  I  don't  know. 
General  Early  may  conclude  to  turn  you  loose 
1 80 


SAFE-CONDUCT  OF   TWO   KINDS 

as  a  creature  too  contemptible  to  be  seriously 
dealt  with." 

"  God  grant  that  he  may !  "  said  the  man, 
with  fervour,  as  the  guards  took  him  away. 

A  minute  later  Kilgariff  mounted  his  horse, 
Wyanoke  —  a  special  gift  from  Dorothy  —  and 
rode  hurriedly  to  General  Early's  headquarters ; 
it  was  after  midnight,  but  with  this  army  sleep- 
lessly  "on  service"  very  little  attention  was 
given  to  hours,  either  of  the  day  or  of  the 
night.  So,  after  a  moment's  parley  with  a  sen 
tinel,  Kilgariff  was  conducted  to  General  Early's 
presence,  under  a  tree. 

It  was  not  Kilgariff's  habit  to  grow  excited. 
He  had  passed  through  too  much  for  that,  he 
thought.  But  on  this  occasion  his  perturbation 
of  spirit  was  so  great  that  he  had  difficulty  in 
enunciating  his  words. 

"  General,"  he  said,  "  I  want  a  little  cavalry 
force,  if  you  please.  I  want  to  capture  one  of 
the  enemy's  hospitals  and  hold  it  long  enough 
for  me  to  have  a  talk  with  the  most  infamous 
scoundrel  who  ever  lived." 

"  Calm  yourself,  Captain,"  said  Early.  "  Have 
a  little  apple  brandy  as  a  tonic.  Your  nerves 
are  shaken." 

181 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Kilgariff  declined  the  stimulant,  but  at  Early's 
earnest  solicitation  he  sat  down  upon  a  stump, 
and  presently  so  far  commanded  his  own  spirit 
as  to  go  on  with  what  he  had  to  say. 

"One  of  those  contemptible  border  wretches 
got  himself  smuggled  through  our  lines  to-night. 
I  don't  know  how.  He  brought  me  a  note 
from  the  most  infamous  scoundrel  I  ever  knew, 
together  with  a  safe-conduct  under  which  I 
could  sneak  into  the  enemy's  lines  and  talk 
with  the  fellow,  who  is  mortally  wounded.  I 
tore  up  the  safe-conduct  and  sent  the  emissary 
to  the  guard-house  with  the  comfortable  assur 
ance  that  his  case  would  be  submitted  to  you, 
and  that  you  would  pretty  certainly  order  him. 
shot  or  hanged  according  to  the  gravity  with 
which  you  might  regard  his  offence.  I  hope 
you'll  let  him  go.  He  is  so  poor-spirited  a  cur 
that  he  will  suffer  a  thousand  deaths  to-night 
in  dreading  one  for  to-morrow.  However,  that 
isn't  what  I  want  to  speak  with  you  about.  I 
want  a  cavalry  force  of  a  company  or  two. 
I  want  to  raid  that  hospital  before  morning 
and  talk  with  that  rascal  in  the  interest  of 
others  whose  fate  he  may  hold  in  his  hands." 

"  Do  you  plan  to  kill  him  ?  " 
182 


SAFE-CONDUCT  OF   TWO   KINDS 

"  Of  course  not.  He  is  wounded  unto  death. 
And  besides  —  well,  General,  he  isn't  of  our 
class." 

"  I  quite  understand  —  not  a  man  you  could 
'  call  out.'  " 

"  Distinctly  not  —  although  he  has  a  major's 
commission." 

"  Oh  —  if  you  want  a  colonel's  or  a  brigadier- 
general's,  you  shall  have  it,"  broke  in  Early, 
full  of  the  enthusiasm  of  fight. 

"  No,  General,"  answered  Kilgariff,  with  an 
amused  smile  ;  "  I  have  always  found  it  possible 
to  fight  anybody  I  pleased  without  raising  the 
question  of  rank.  You  know,  a  private,  if  he 
is  a  man  of  good  family,  may  slap  a  major- 
general's  jaws  in  our  army,  in  full  certainty  that 
his  escapade  will  bring  a  challenge  rather  than 
a  citation  before  a  court-martial.  No.  I  want  to 
talk  with  this  man  before  he  dies.  He  sent  me 
a  safe-conduct,  as  I  have  already  said.  That 
was  a  gracious  permission  from  the  Federal 
authorities  for  me  to  see  him.  I  have  a  very 
pronounced  prejudice  against  the  acceptance  of 
gracious  permissions  from  the  Federal  authori 
ties.  So  I  have  come  to  ask  for  a  squadron  of 
cavalry,  to  which  I  will  add  a  couple  of  guns, 
183 


EVELYN  BTRD 

in  order  that  I  may  capture  that  post,  enter  its 
hospital,  and  have  my  talk  with  its  inmate  with 
out  anybody's  permission  but  yours,  General." 

The  humour  of  the  situation  appealed  strongly 
to  Early,  as  it  did  also  to  Major  Irby  of  the  Vir 
ginia  Cavalry,  who  was  sitting  near  by.  That 
officer  was  a  man  of  few  words,  but  he  carried 
an  unusually  alert  sabre,  and  his  sense  of  humour 
was  uncommonly  keen. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  General,"  he  said,  in  his 
quiet  fashion,  "  I  should  like  to  '  sit  in  '  the  cap 
tain's  game." 

"Do  it!"  said  Early.  "Take  three  compa 
nies  and  two  of  Kilgariff's  guns,  and  let  him 
show  the  f  v  that  he  carries  his  own  safe- 
conduct  at  li  back." 

Things  \vc,o  done  promptly  and  quickly  in 
those  stirring  times,  and  five  minutes  after 
Early  had  spoken  his  words  of  permission, 
Major  Irby  moved  at  the  head  of  three  com 
panies  of  cavalry  and  two  of  Kilgariff's  guns 
—  the  two  so  recently  captured  from  the  enemy, 
and  selected  now  by  way  of  emphasising  the 
jest. 

A  dash,  a  scurry,  and  every  picket  post  south 
of  Harper's  Ferry  was  swept  out  of  sight. 
184 


XIII 

KILGARIFF   HEARS    NEWS 

S  soon  as  Major  Irby  had  possessed 
himself  of  the  hospital  and  the  region 
round  about,  he  gave  orders  to  throw 
out  pickets  a  mile  or  so  in  every  direction,  in 
order  to  guard  against  surprise.  He  posted 
Kilgariff's  guns  on  a  little  hill,  where  their  fire 
could  sweep  all  of  the  roads  over  which  an 
advance  of  the  enemy  was  possible.  Then  he 
ordered  the  officer  of  the  guard  to  post  a  strong 
line  of  sentinels  around  the  house  itself,  which 
served  as  hospital,  and  to  send  a  corporal's  guard 
into  the  building  with  orders  to  dispose  them 
selves  as  Kilgariff  might  direct. 

Kilgariff,  who  had  stripped  the  chevrons  off 

his  sleeves,  and  sewed  a  captain's  three  bars  on 

his  collar  in  obedience  to  General  Early's  order, 

immediately  entered  the  house  and   made   his 

185 


EVELYN  BTRD 

way  to  the  separate  room  in  which  Campbell's 
cot  had  been  placed.  Kilgariff  turned  to  the 
corporal  of  the  guard,  and  commanded :  — 

"  Place  two  sentinels  in  that  outer  room. 
Order  them  to  see  to  it  that  there  is  no  eaves 
dropping.  You  understand  ? " 

"  Perfectly,  Captain." 

There  is  this  advantage  about  military  over 
other  arrangements,  that  they  can  be  absolutely 
depended  upon.  The  sentinel  who  has  "  orders  " 
is  an  autocrat  in  their  execution.  He  has  no 
discretion.  He  enters  into  no  argument.  He 
parleys  with  nobody,  whatever  that  somebody's 
rank  may  be.  He  simply  commands,  "Halt"  ; 
and  if  the  one  advancing  takes  one  other  step, 
the  sentinel  fires  a  death  shot  at  short  range 
and  with  absolutely  certain  aim.  Killing,  on  the 
part  of  a  sentinel  whose  command  of  "  Halt  "  is 
disregarded,  is  not  only  no  crime  in  military  law 
—  it  is  a  virtue,  a  simple  discharge  of  peremptory 
duty.  And  the  sentinel  himself,  if  ordered  to 
stand  twenty  feet  away  from  a  door,  stands 
there,  not  encroaching  upon  the  distance  by  so 
much  as  a  foot,  under  pain  of  punishment  "  in 
the  discretion  of  a  court-martial,"  as  the  mili 
tary  law  phrases  it. 

1 86 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

So,  when  Kilgariff  entered  the  room  in  which 
the  man  who  had  ruined  his  life  lay  wounded, 
in  answer  to  that  man's  summons,  he  knew  that 
his  conversation  would  be  neither  interrupted 
nor  overheard  in  any  word  or  syllable  of  it. 
The  absoluteness  of  military  law  and  practice 
forbade  that,  even  as  a  possibility. 

Kilgariff  advanced  to  the  man's  bedside,  took 
his  seat  upon  a  camp  stool,  and  without  the 
remotest  suggestion  of  a  greeting  in  his  voice 
or  manner,  abruptly  said  :  — 

"  I  am  here.     What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  come,"  answered  the 
man;  " the  safe-conduct  —  " 

"  I  tore  that  up  the  moment  I  received  it," 
answered  Kilgariff. 

"  But  why  ?     It  was  valid." 

"  For  any  other  officer  in  our  army,  yes," 
answered  Kilgariff;  "but  not  for  me,  as  you 
very  well  know.  Anyhow,  I  preferred  to  come 
under  the  safe-conduct  of  Southern  carbines 
and  cannon  and  sabres.  Never  mind  that.  Go 
on.  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

The  man  winced  and  groaned  with  pain  as  he 
turned  himself  a  little  on  his  cot  in  order  to  face 
his  interlocutor.     Presently  he  said :  — • 
187 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  I'm  shot  through  the  groin  with  a  canister 
ball.  It  is  a  wound  unto  death,  I  suppose." 

"Yes  ?  Well?  What  else?  I  did  not  come 
to  ask  after  your  health." 

"  Of  course  not.  I  mention  my  condition 
only  as  a  man  who  flings  a  card  upon  the  table 
at  a  critical  moment  exclaims,  '  That 's  a  trump.' 
You  see,  the  things  I  want  to  say  to  you  are  in 
the  nature  of  an  ante-mortem  statement,  and  I 
want  you  to  understand  that,  so  that  you  may 
believe  all  I  have  to  tell  you." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Kilgariff.  "  You  are 
precisely  the  sort  of  man,  who,  after  lying  and 
cheating  all  his  life,  would  tell  the  truth  in  a 
dying  statement,  if  only  by  way  of  cheating  the 
Day  of  Judgment  and  playing  stacked  cards  on 
the  Almighty.  Go  on." 

But  before  the  man  could  speak  again,  Kil 
gariff  added : — 

"  As  a  still  further  stimulus  to  truth-telling 
on  your  part,  let  me  make  a  few  suggestions. 
You  are  completely  in  my  power.  If  I  choose, 
I  can  have  you  taken  hence  to  General  Early 
and  introduce  you  to  him  as  a  man  who  accepted 
a  commission  in  the  Confederate  Army  and  then 
deserted  to  the  other  side  and  deceived  the  au- 
188 


KILGARIFF   HEARS   NEWS 

thorities  there  into  giving  him  a  commission  to 
fight  the  cause  he  had  solemnly  sworn  to  sup 
port  You  know  what  would  happen  in  such  a 
case." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  There  'd  be  a  drumhead  court- 
martial,  and  I  'd  be  hanged  at  daybreak.  But 
hear  me,  Kilgariff.  I  'm  a  gambler,  as  you  know, 
not  in  one  way,  but  in  all  ways.  And  I  know 
how  to  be  a  good  loser.  I  've  drawn  a  very  bad 
hand  this  time,  but  I've  called  the  game;  and  if 
I'm  hanged  for  it,  I  shall  not  whine  about  my 
luck.  Whenever  I  die,  and  however  I  die,  I  '11  die 
game.  So  you  can't  intimidate  me.  But  before 
I  die,  there  are  certain  things  I  want  to  tell 
you  —  for  the  sake  of  the  others.  For  although  I 
have  no  moral  principles  and  don't  profess  any, 
there  are  some  things  I  want  to  tell  you  about —  " 
"  Go  on.  Tell  me  about  my  brother." 
"That  wasn't  what  I  wanted  to  talk  about 
first.  Besides,  you  know  most  of  the  story." 

"  Never  mind  that.  I  want  to  hear  it  all  from 
your  lips.  Much  of  it  I  never  understood.  Tell 
it  all  and  quickly." 

"Well,  your  brother's  a  fool,  you  know." 
"  Yes,  I  know.    Otherwise  —  never  mind  that. 
Tell   me   the  whole   story.     How  far  was  my 
189 


EVELTN  BTRD 

brother  a  sharer  in  your  guilt?  How  far  did  he 
consent  to  my  wrecking?  Why  did  he  join  you 
for  my  destruction,  after  all  I  had  done  for 
him  ? " 

"  It 's  very  hard  to  say.  Opinions  differ,  and 
standards  of  morality  —  " 

"  Damn  opinions  and  standards !  —  especially 
yours.  I  want  the  facts  —  all  of  them,  to  the 
last  detail.  Go  on,  and  don't  waste  time." 

"  Well,  your  brother  is  a  fool,  as  I  said  before, 
though  in  the  end  he  did  'make  his  jack'  and 
win  a  pot  of  money.  But  that  was  good  luck  — 
not  good  play." 

"  Don't  fall  into  reflections,"  interrupted  Kil- 
gariff,  seeing  that  Campbell  was  in  a  reminiscent 
mood.  "  We  've  no  time  for  that  sort  of  thing. 
Go  on  with  the  facts." 

"  Well,  you  see  your  brother  was  that  sort  of 
man  about  whom  people  say  that  he  was  '  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning.'  He  always  wanted 
to  do  right,  and  if  he  could  have  got  a  good  steady 
job  as  a  millionaire,  I  don't  know  anybody  who 
would  have  been  more  scrupulously  upright 
than  he.  You  see,  he  really  thought  he  had 
principles  —  moral  character  and  that  sort  of 
thing  —  when  he  had  n't  anything  of  the  kind. 
190 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

Many  people  deceive  themselves  in  that  way.  1 
never  did.  I  was  born  of  as  good  a  family  as 
yours,  or  any  other.  I  was  raised  in  the  most 
honourable  traditions,  and  as  a  young  man  I  was 
reckoned  a  pattern  of  high-minded  conduct.  I 
knew  all  the  time  that  I  had  no  moral  character, 
no  principles.  Or  rather,  I  gradually  became 
conscious  of  that  fact." 

Kilgariff  was  exceedingly  impatient  of  this 
autobiography,  but  he  thought  the  shortest  way 
to  the  man's  facts  was  to  let  him  talk  on  in  his 
own  way.  So  he  forebore  to  interrupt,  and 
Campbell  continued:  — 

"  I  would  have  killed  any  man  who  called  me 
a  liar,  but  I  never  hesitated  to  lie  when  lying 
seemed  to  me  of  advantage.  I  was  scrupulous 
in  paying  my  debts  and  discharging  every  social 
duty,  but  I  knew  myself  well  enough  to  know 
that  if  an  opportunity  came  to  me  to  rob  any 
man  without  being  found  out,  I  would  do  it 
and  not  hesitate  or  repent  over  it.  Like  the 
great  majority  of  men,  I  was  honest  only  as  a 
matter  of  policy.  I  had  no  moral  character. 
Most  people  have  n't  any,  but  they  go  on  think 
ing  they  have  and  pretending  about  it  until  they 
completely  deceive  themselves.  They  refuse  to 
191 


EVELYN  BTRD 

take  the  old  sage's  advice  to  '  know  thyself.'     I 
took  it.     I  early  learned  to  know  myself. 

"  But  if  I  had  no  principles,  I  at  least  had 
sentiments.  One  of  those  sentiments  was  pride 
in  my  family.  When  I  saw  clearly  that  I  was 
going  to  be  an  adventurer,  a  gambler,  a  swindler, 
a  man  living  by  his  wits,  I  did  not  shrink  from 
that,  but  I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  disgrac 
ing  the  name  I  bore.  So  I  decided  not  to  bear 
that  name,  but  to  choose  another.  At  first  I 
thought  of  calling  myself  '  George  Washington 
Bib '-  —  just  for  the  humour  of  the  thing.  The 
sudden  slump  from  the  resonance  of  '  George 
Washington  '  to  the  monosyllabic  inconsequence 
of  '  Bib '  struck  me  as  funny.  But  I  reflected 
that  while  I  had  never  heard  of  anybody  named 
Bib,  there  rni^nt  be  people  by  that  name. 
Still  further,  it  occurred  to  me  that  anybody  on 
being  introduced  to  George  Washington  Bib 
would  be  sure  to  remember  the  name,  and  in 
the  career  I  had  marked  out  for  myself  that 
might  be  inconvenient.  So  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  call  myself  Campbell.  There  are  so 
many  families  of  that  name,  and  they  are  so 
prolific,  that  the  mere  name  means  nothing  — 
not  even  a  probability  of  kinship.  But  you  're 
192 


KILGARIFF   HEARS  NEWS 

not  interested  in  all  this.  You  want  to  hear 
about  your  brother." 

"Yes,"  answered  Kilgariff. 

"  Well,  your  brother  was  highly  respectable, 
as  you  know.  He  was  comfortably  rich  at  the 
first,  and  after  he  lost  most  of  his  money  he 
struggled  hard  to  keep  up  the  pretence  of  being 
still  comfortably  rich.  He  did  the  thing  very 
cleverly,  and  it  let  him  into  several  pretty  good 
things  in  Wall  Street.  But  it  let  him  into  a 
good  many  very  bad  things  also,  and  in  his 
over-anxiety  to  become  really  rich  again,  he 
went  into  the  bad  things  headforemost  and 
blindfold.  I  was  posing  as  a  lawyer  then,  you 
know,  and  cutting  a  large  swath.  I  really  had 
no  regular  practice  of  any  consequence,  but  I 
kept  two  large  suites  of  offices  and  any  number 
of  clerks,  as  a  blind,  and  I  managed  every  now 
and  then  to  find  out  things  that  I  could  turn  to 
account —  " 

"  Blackmail,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  you  'd  call  it  that,  but  always 
with  a  weather  eye  on  the  law.  You  see,  when 
an  active  lawyer  finds  out  that  a  big  banker  has 
been  doing  things  he  oughtn't,  the  big  banker 
is  apt  to  conclude  that  he  needs  the  services  of 
193 


EVELYN  BTRD 

precisely  that  particular  lawyer  as  private  coun 
sel.  There  are  big  fees  in  the  business  some 
times,  but  it 's  risky  and  uncertain.  So  I  had 
my  ups  and  downs.  I  was  in  one  of  the  very 
worst  of  my  downs  when  this  bank  affair  fell  in. 
I  had  been  a  bank  examiner  at  one  time,  and 
had  twice  examined  the  affairs  of  this  bank.  I 
knew  that  its  deposits  were  enormous  and  its 
assets  sufficient,  if  properly  handled,  to  pay  out 
everything  and  leave  a  large  surplus,  besides 
something  for  the  receiver.  So  I  decided  to  be 
come  in  effect,  though  not  in  fact,  the  receiver. 
I  owned  a  judge.  He  owed  me  money  which 
he  couldn't  pay,  and  that  money  was  owing  on 
account  of  things  which  he  couldn't  on  any  con 
sideration  allow  to  be  inquired  into  in  '  proceed 
ings.'  Moreover,  I  knew  a  lot  of  other  things 
which  in  themselves  made  me  his  master. 
Still  again,  his  term  was  nearly  at  an  end,  and  I 
had  the  political  influence  necessary  to  secure 
or  defeat  his  renomination  and  re-election,  as  I 
might  choose.  In  short,  I  owned  him  body  and 
soul.  So,  when  it  fell  to  him  to  appoint  a  re 
ceiver  for  this  bank,  he  naturally  sent  for  me  in 
consultation.  His  idea  was  to  appoint  me  to 
the  receivership,  but  I  saw  clearly  that  that 
194 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

would  not  do.  It  would  raise  a  row,  for  I  was 
pretty  well  known  to  the  big  financiers,  many 
of  whom  had  been  obliged  to  employ  me  by 
way  of  silencing  me  at  one  time  or  another. 
But  more  important  than  that  was  the  fact  that 
the  plans  I  had  formed  for  the  handling  of  the 
bank's  affairs  involved  a  good  deal  of  risk  to  the 
receiver.  The  bank  had  a  great  many  invest 
ments  that  must  be  closed  out  in  order  to  put 
the  institution  on  its  feet  again,  and  there  are 
various  ways  of  closing  out  such  investments. 
It  was  my  idea  that  they  should  be  so  closed  out 
as  to  leave  the  bank  just  barely  solvent  and 
able  to  pay  its  depositors,  you  understand — 

"Yes — and  that  you  and  your  pals  should 
pocket  the  surplus." 

"  Precisely.  I  did  n't  imagine  you  had  so 
good  a  head  for  business." 

"  Never  mind  my  head.  Consider  your  own 
neck,  and  go  on  with  the  story." 

"  Now  won't  you  understand,"  said  the  ad 
venturer,  "  that  I  'm  not  thinking  about  my 
neck  ?  I  've  staked  that  as  my  '  ante  '  in  this 
game,  and  I  never  ask  the  ante  back.  Well, 
I  showed  my  judge  that  it  wouldn't  do  at  all  to 
make  me  receiver,  but  I  told  him  I  would  find 
195 


EVELYN  BTRD 

him  the  right  man.  Your  brother  had  already 
occurred  to  me  as  available.  He  was  in  extreme 
financial  difficulties  at  that  time.  He  was  in  ar 
rears  in  his  club  dues,  and  his  tailor's  bills,  and 
even  to  his  servants.  He  had  sold  out  every 
bond  and  every  share  of  stock  he  owned,  and 
still  his  debts  were  sorely  pressing  him.  He 
lived  at  a  fine  though  small  place  just  out  of 
town,  where  he  and  his  wife  and  daughters  en 
tertained  sumptuously.  For  even  to  his  wife 
and  daughters  he  kept  up  the  pretence  of  being 
comfortably  rich,  so  that  they  had  no  hesitation 
in  giving  orders  at  the  caterers'  and  the  florists' 
and  directing  that  the  bills  be  sent  to  him. 

"  I  knew  his  condition.  I  knew  that  he  was 
passing  sleepless  nights  in  dreadful  apprehen 
sion  of  the  quickly  coming  time  when  the  florists 
and  the  caterers  would  surely  refuse  to  fill  the 
orders  of  his  wife  and  daughters  on  the  ground 
that  he  owed  them  and  did  n't  pay. 

"  One  day  I  sent  for  him  to  dine  with  me  in  a 
private  room  at  an  expensive  hotel.  I  vaguely 
suggested  to  him  that  his  fortune  was  made ; 
that  within  a  few  days  I  should  be  able  to  put 
him  in  position  to  twiddle  his  fingers  at  the 
florists  and  the  caterers.  But  I  gave  him  no  de- 
196 


KILGAR1FF   HEARS  NEWS 

tails.  I  gave  him  limitless  champagne  instead, 
and,  as  my  digestion  resented  champagne  at 
that  time,  I  excused  myself  from  drinking  more 
than  a  very  small  share  of  the  enticing  beverage. 
We  decided  to  play  poker,  after  dinner,  just  for 
amusement.  The  chips  were  valued  high  —  a 
dollar  for  a  white  chip,  two  and  a  half  for  a  red, 
and  five  dollars  for  a  blue. 

"  For  a  time  your  brother  had  marvellous 
'  luck.'  He  won  enough  of  my  paper  promises 
to  pay  to  make  him  feel  already  quite  inde 
pendent  of  the  caterers  and  the  florists,  and  to 
convince  him  that  at  poker  I  was  exceedingly 
easy  prey  to  a  man  who  '  really  understood  the 
game,'  as  he  conceitedly  thought  he  did.  Well,, 
we  played  on  till  morning ;  and  when  sunrise 
came,  he  had  given  me  his  I  O  U's  for  more 
money  than  he  had  ever  owned  in  his  life." 

"That  is  to  say,  you  had  made  him  drunk  on 
champagne,  and  then  had  cheated  him  without 
limit  ? " 

"  Well,  yes,  that 's  about  it.  Anyhow,  I  owned 
him.  After  he  had  got  over  the  headache  and 
the  champagne,  he  came  to  me  at  my  office  to 
see  what  could  be  done  by  way  of  compromise. 
I  told  him  that  I  had  no  money  and  no  resources 
197 


EVELYN  BTRD 

except  my  wits ;  I  frankly  confessed  that  but 
for  certain  cash  payments  he  had  made  early  in 
the  game,  I  could  not  have  paid  for  the  hotel 
room  and  tipped  the  waiters  to  the  tune  that 
waiters  set  when  they  are  privy  to  a  game  of 
that  kind. 

"'But  it's  all  right,'  I  assured  him.  'Don't 
bother  about  the  I  O  U's.  They'll  keep.  They 
are  debts  of  honour,  of  course,  but  they  needn't 
be  paid  till  it  is  convenient  to  pay  them ;  and 
when  you  go  into  the  position  that  I  've  secured 
for  you,  it  will  be  not  only  convenient,  but  ex 
ceedingly  easy.' 

"Then  I  told  him  about  the  receivership  and 
my  purpose  to  have  him  appointed.  I  explained 
that  in  the  mere  matter  of  commissions  it  would 
give  him  a  princely  income,  to  say  nothing  of 
perquisites.  I  didn't  explain  what  'perquisites' 
in  such  a  case  meant.  That  was  because  I  had 
no  moral  character.  He  did  n't  ask.  That  was 
because  he  thought  he  had  a  moral  character 
and  wished  to  spare  it  affront. 

"  It  was    easily   arranged   that   the   judge    I 

owned  should  appoint  as  receiver   the  man  I 

owned.     But  I  didn't  own  my  man  completely, 

as  yet.     He  owed  me  more   money,  as  a  debt 

198 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

of  honour,  than  he  could  pay  at  that  time ;  but 
once  in  the  receivership,  he  could  quickly  pay 
off  all  that,  and  then  I  should  n't  own  him  at 
all.  Indeed,  he  might  have  repudiated  the 
I  O  U's  as  illegal  gambling  debts ;  he  might 
have  refused  to  pay  them  at  all.  But  I  was  n't 
afraid  of  that.  Your  brother  fondly  imagined 
that  he  was  a  man  of  honour,  of  high  moral 
principle,  and  so  I  knew  that  in  order  to  keep 
up  that  pretence  with  himself  he  would  stand 
by  his  debts  of  honour.  But  I  foresaw  that  he 
might  presently  discharge  them  all,  out  of  the 
proceeds  of  the  receivership,  and  send  me 
adrift.  I  must  get  a  stronger  grip  on  him. 
So  I  told  my  judge  to  send  for  him  and  say 
certain  things  to  him. 

" '  You  must  set  up  a  house,'  the  judge  told 
him,  'in  a  fashionable  quarter  of  the  town,  by 
way  of  maintaining  your  position.  You  see, 
it  won't  do  for  me  to  put  anybody  in  charge  of 
those  many  millions  who  is  n't  recognised  as 
himself  a  man  of  independent  wealth.  You 
must  have  a  good  house  and  enlarge  your  estab 
lishment.  The  receivership  will  abundantly 
recoup  you  in  the  end,  but  from  the  beginning 
we  must  keep  up  appearances.' 
199 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  Your  brother  came  to  me  in  great  distress 
of  mind  to  tell  me  what  the  judge  had  required 
of  him.  He  frankly  told  me  he  had  n't  the 
money  necessary  to  make  a  first  payment  on 
the  lease  of  a  town  house,  to  furnish  it  suitably, 
and  to  establish  himself  in  it.  I  pretended  to 
be  worried  over  the  matter,  and  I  took  twenty- 
four  hours  in  which  to  think  about  it.  Then 
I  sent  for  your  brother  again  and  told  him  I 
saw  a  way  out ;  that  certain  clients  of  mine 
had  money  to  invest  on  bond  and  mortgage, 
and  had  placed  it  in  my  hands ;  that  by  a 
little  stretching  of  my  authority  I  could  let 
him  have  the  amount  he  needed,  as  a  mortgage 
loan  on  his  place  in  the  country.  I  saw  his 
face  fall  when  I  suggested  this,  as  I  had  ex 
pected  to  see  it  fall.  Presently  he  explained 
that  in  order  to  give  a  mortgage  on  his  country 
place,  which  really  stood  in  his  wife's  name  and 
had  in  fact  come  to  her  as  a  dowry,  he  must 
get  her  to  execute  the  papers.  That  would  be 
very  awkward,  he  explained,  as  he  had  never 
thought  it  necessary  to  bother  his  womankind 
about  his  affairs.  To  ask  his  wife  to  execute 
a  mortgage  would  necessitate  a  statement  to 
her  of  his  financial  position,  and  a  whole  lot 
200 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

more  of  that  sort,  which  I  had  expected.  I 
told  him  I  thought  I  could  arrange  the  matter ; 
that  my  clients  had  placed  their  affairs  com 
pletely  in  my  hands ;  that  all  they  wanted  was 
the  prompt  payment  of  interest  and  adequate 
security  for  their  invested  money;  that  the 
profits  of  the  receivership  would  be  ample  to 
secure  all  this ;  and  that  any  arrangement  I 
might  make  would  never  be  questioned  by  my 
clients.  I  told  him  that  the  mortgage  security 
was  after  all  only  a  matter  of  form  in  a  case 
where  the  other  security  was  so  ample,  and 
that  the  whole  thing  was  in  my  hands.  So  I 
suggested  that  he  should  —  as  a  mere  matter 
of  form  —  execute  the  mortgage,  himself  sign 
ing  his  wife's  name  in  her  stead.  I  would  take 
care  of  the  document,  not  even  recording  it, 
and  the  loan  could  be  paid  off  presently,  with 
nobody  the  wiser.  Your  brother  fell  into  the 
trap.  He  executed  the  mortgage,  signing  his 
wife's  name  to  it,  and  he  was  at  once  made 
receiver  of  the  bank. 

"  From  that  hour,  of  course,  he  was  my  prop 
erty.      No    negro    slave  in  all  the    South  was 
ever   more    completely   owned,    or   more    abso 
lutely  under  the  control  of  his  master. 
201 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  I  had  only  to  reveal  the  facts  at  any  mo 
ment  in  order  to  send  him  to  jail.  He  had 
committed  a  felony  —  he,  the  highly  respectable 
receiver  of  a  savings  bank,  and  a  man  regarded 
as  a  leader  in  social  and  even  in  religious  move 
ments  of  every  kind.  I  held  complete  proofs 
of  his  felony  in  my  own  hands.  He  must  do 
my  bidding  or  go  to  State's  prison. 

"  My  first  order  to  him  was  to  put  me  into 
the  bank  as  counsel  to  the  receiver,  at  a  good 
salary,  and  also  as  expert  accountant,  at  another 
good  salary.  The  bank  could  afford  all  this 
and  vastly  more.  Its  assets  were  easily  three 
times  its  liabilities  —  if  properly  handled,  and 
I  knew  how  to  handle  them.  I  meant  no  harm 
to  your  brother.  On  the  contrary,  I  meant  to 
make  him  rich  and  let  him  retire  from  the  com 
pleted  receivership  with  the  commendation  of 
the  court  for  the  masterly  manner  in  which  he 
had  so  handled  the  affairs  of  the  institution  as 
to  make  good  every  dollar  of  its  deposits  with 
interest,  and  to  deliver  it  into  the  hands  of  its 
trustees  again  in  a  perfectly  solvent  condition. 
You  see,  the  assets  were  ample  for  that,  and 
to  provide  for  my  future  besides.  The  only 
trouble  before  had  been  bad  management  and 
202 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

a  deficient  knowledge  of  the  art  of  bookkeeping 
on  the  part  of  the  respectable  old  galoots  who 
had  been  in  control  of  the  bank.  They  might 
easily  have  straightened  out  everything  without 
any  court  proceedings  at  all,  if  they  had  known 
how.  Their  violations  of  the  law  had  been 
purely  technical  —  such  as  occur  in  every  bank 
every  day  —  and  these  things  can  always  be 
arranged  on  a  good  basis  of  assets,  if  the 
people  in  charge  only  know  how. 

"  Now,  when  I  began  operations  in  the  bank, 
your  brother  was  inclined  to  object  to  some  of 
the  things  I  did.  I  had  only  to  remind  him 
of  the  mortgage  papers  in  order  to  reduce  him 
to  subjection.  He  still  thought  he  had  a  moral 
character,  and  so  when  I  proposed  to  sell  out 
the  bank's  securities  at  ten  or  twenty  or  fifty 
per  cent  less  than  their  value,  and  take  a  com 
mission  of  five  or  ten  pr  forty  per  cent  for  our 
selves  from  the  buyers,  he  raised  grave  moral 
objections.  But  he  was  in  no  position  to  insist 
upon  them,  and  besides  he  was  largely  profiting 
by  the  transactions.  Meanwhile,  I  was  slowly 
getting  the  bank's  affairs  into  shape  —  very 
slowly,  for  there  were  the  salaries  of  him  and 
myself  to  be  considered.  Then  came  the  revolt 
203 


EVELTN  BTRD 

of  the  chief  bookkeeper,  and  his  complaint  that 
we  were  robbing  the  bank.  I  tried  hard  to 
square  him,  but  he  would  n't  square.  That 
fellow  really  had  a  moral  character,  and,  worse 
still,  he  could  n't  be  scared.  I  showed  him  that 
as  he  had  already  permitted  false  entries  in  the 
bank's  books,  he  must  himself  be  involved  in 
any  exposure  that  might  be  made.  He  an 
swered  that  he  knew  that,  and  was  prepared 
to  explain  matters  in  court  and  '  take  the  con 
sequences.'  Then  your  brother  got  scared  half 
to  death,  and  consulted  you.  If  he  had  waited  for 
forty-eight  hours,  I  should  have  had  that  book 
keeper  in  jail,  and  your  brother  would  have  got 
credit  for  extreme  vigilance.  But  when  he  sent 
for  you,  all  was  up.  You  came  into  the  bank 
and  practically  took  your  brother's  place  and 
function.  But  you  neglected  to  provide  your 
self  with  legal  authority  to  be  in  the  bank  at 
all.  Another  thing  you  did  n't  reckon  upon 
was  my  foresight.  I  had  taken  pains  to  win 
several  of  the  clerks  and  bookkeepers  to  my 
side.  I  had  '  let  them  in,'  so  that  when  you 
angrily  dismissed  me,  I  still  had  daily  and 
hourly  information  of  what  was  going  on.  You 
found  out  that  the  bank's  securities  had  been 
204 


KILGARIFF   HEARS  NEWS 

sold  for  less  than  they  were  worth,  and  you  set 
to  work  to  repair  the  wrong.  You  couldn't 
cancel  the  sales  that  had  been  made,  but  you 
could  and  did  pay  your  own  money  into  the 
bank  to  make  good  what  you  regarded  as  the 
defalcations.  That  made  it  easy  for  me.  I 
went  to  my  judge  —  the  one  I  owned  —  and 
laid  before  him  the  fact  that  you  were  handling 
the  bank's  assets  without  a  shadow  of  legal 
authority ;  that  you  had  dismissed  me  —  the 
receiver's  counsel  and  expert  accountant  —  upon 
discovering  that  I  knew  of  defalcations,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  You  know  that  part  of  the  story, 
for  you  suffered  from  it.  To  save  your  brother, 
you  had  sacrificed  large  sums  of  money.  When 
that  failed  and  you  found  that  either  he  or  you 
must  go  to  prison  for  these  defalcations,  you 
decided  to  sacrifice  your  liberty  and  your  repu 
tation  in  order  to  save  him  and  his  wife  and 
daughters.  You  refused  to  defend  yourself. 
I  thought  your  plan  was  ,  to  get  a  stay,  give 
bail,  and  skip  it.  But  you  had  the  disadvan 
tage  of  having  a  moral  character,  so  you  stood 
your  hand  and  were  sent  to  prison.  Your 
brother,  having  no  moral  character,  let  you 
do  this  thing  and  pretended  great  grief  over 

2CX 


EVELYN  BTRD 

your  dishonesty  and  perfidy.  But  he  had 
learned  the  business  by  that  time,  and  so  he 
got  away  with  the  swag,  and  with  the  reputa 
tion  of  a  man  of  truly  Roman  virtue  who  suf 
fered  acutely  over  the  misbehaviour  of  his 
'  black  sheep '  brother.  What  a  farce  it  all  is 
anyhow — life,  I  mean  —  if  one  tries  to  take 
it  seriously !  Let  me  have  a  little  brandy, 
please !  I  'm  growing  very  faint." 

The  brandy  did  its  appointed  work  of  stimula 
tion,  and  presently  Campbell  resumed  :  — 

"  I  don't  in  the  least  understand  why  you 
should  care  for  your  brother,  but,  as  you  do,  it 
may  gratify  you  to  know  that  he  is  leading  a 
quiet  life  of  luxury  in  the  country  on  the  Hud 
son.  He  is  a  comfortably  rich  man  ;  for  he 
kept  the  money  he  got  out  of  the  bank  and 
invested  it  prudently  —  a  thing  I  never  could 
do  when  I  had  money.  He  highly  disapproved 
of  me,  of  course ;  but  when  I  quitted  the  South 
ern  army  and  went  North  — ' 

"  When  you  deserted,  you  mean." 

"Yes,  if  you  look  at  it  in  that  way  —  he  used 
his  influence  to  get  me  my  present  commission. 
That  was  cheaper  than  supporting  me,  which 
he  must  otherwise  have  done,  for  I  had  lost  and 

205 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

squandered  everything.  That  brings  me  to  what 
I  really  want  to  talk  to  you  about.  I  have  a 
daughter  somewhere  in  the  South,  if  she  is  still 
alive.  She  was  captured  a  few  months  ago  dur 
ing  an  effort  on  the  part  of  —  well,  never  mind 
whom  —  to  smuggle  her  through  the  lines  into 
the  South,  where  she  has  some  relatives,  though 
I  don't  believe  she  knows  who  they  are.  It 
does  n't  matter.  They  say  I  've  persecuted  the 
girl  —  and  I  suppose  in  a  way  I  have. 

"  Never  mind  that.  I  'm  sinking  fast  now 
and  have  n't  any  time  for  explanations.  I  have 
some  papers  here  that  may  mean  everything 
to  her  after  she  comes  of  age.  She  has  been 
taught  that  she  is  only  seventeen  years  old. 
In  fact,  she  is  nineteen,  and  she  must  have 
these  papers  when  she  is  twenty-one.  I  sent 
for  you  to  ask  you  to  find  her  and  deliver  them. 
You  really  have  a  moral  character,  and  so  you 
won't  trade  on  this  matter.  With  your  wide 
acquaintance,  you  '11  know  how  to  find  the  girl. 
Her  name  is  Evelyn  Byrd." 

If  a  shell  had  exploded  in  the  room,  Kilgariff 

would  not  have  been  so  startled  as  he  was  by 

this  announcement.     But  he  had  no  time   for 

questions.     He  had  heard  picket-firing  for  sev- 

207 


EVELTN  BTRD 

eral  minutes  past,  and  his  practised  ear  told 
him  with  certainty  that  the  rattle  of  the  mus 
ketry  was  steadily  drawing  nearer.  He  knew 
what  that  meant.  The  Federals  were  advanc 
ing  in  adequate  force  for  the  recapture  of  the 
position  and  the  destruction  of  Major  Irby's 
little  handful  of  men. 

A  few  minutes  before  Campbell  made  his 
startling  announcement,  a  note  had  come  to 
Kilgariff  from  Major  Irby,  saying :  — 

"  Enemy  advancing  in  considerable  force,  but 
I  can  hold  place  for  an  hour  or  more  if  abso 
lutely  necessary.  You  needn't  hurry.  Only 
cut  it  as  short  as  you  can." 

But  just  at  the  moment  of  the  mention  of 
Evelyn  Byrd's  name,  the  voices  of  two  rifled 
cannon  were  heard  near  at  hand,  and  Kilgariff 
knew  the  guns  for  his  own.  Instantly  he  sprang 
up,  and,  taking  the  papers  from  Campbell's  hand, 
passed  out  of  the  house  without  a  word  of  fare 
well,  leaped  upon  his  horse,  and  galloped  to  the 
little  hill  where  his  guns  had  been  posted. 

It  was  in  the  gray  of  early  dawn,  and  even 

considerable  bodies  of  troops  could  not  be  seen 

except  at  short  distances.     But  the  enemy  was 

pressing    Major    Irby    hard,    apparently    bent 

208 


rriAKING    THE   PAPERS  FROM  CAMPBELL'S  HAND,  PASSED   OUT 
1      OF  THE  HOUSE    WITHOUT  A    WORD   OF  FAREWELL. 


KILGARIFF  HEARS  NEWS 

upon  capturing  his  force.  Both  his  flanks 
were  threatened,  while  his  centre  was  specially 
hard  pressed. 

No  sooner  had  Kilgariff  reported  that  his 
mission  was  finished,  and  that  he  was  himself 
with  the  guns,  than  Irby  gave  some  rapid  com 
mands,  threw  his  whole  force  upon  the  enemy 
with  great  impetuosity,  and  then,  while  the  re 
coil  before  his  charge  lasted,  swung  his  little 
band  about  and  made  good  its  escape  at  ra. 
gallop. 


209 


XIV 

IN   THE   WATCHES    OF   THE    NIGHT 

OWEN  KILGARIFF  was  now  beset 
with  perplexities.  So  long  as  he 
should  continue  to  serve  with  Early 
in  the  valley,  he  must  retain  the  rank  of  captain 
which  that  commander  had  forced  upon  him, 
and  this  he  was  determined  not  to  do.  He 
knew  that  Early  had  reported  upon  his  case, 
and  that  very  certainly  a  commission  would 
come  to  him  in  regular  form  from  Richmond. 
He  foresaw  that  its  coming  would  greatly  in 
crease  his  embarrassment.  He  could  not  de 
cline  it  except  officially  through  General  Early, 
to  whom,  of  course,  he  could  give  no  satisfac 
tory  reason  for  his  erratic  course. 

Then,  too,  he  was  puzzled  about  the  papers 
that  Campbell  had  given  him.  These  clearly 
belonged  to  Evelyn,  and  his  first  impulse  was 
to  send  them  to  her  and  let  her  do  what  she 
would  with  them.  But  he  remembered  that 
210 


IN  THE  WATCHES  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Campbell's  injunction  had  been,  or  seemed  to 
be,  to  deliver  the  documents  into  her  hands 
only  when  she  attained  the  age  of  twenty-one 
years.  Not  knowing  what  might  be  in  the 
papers,  Kilgariff  could  not  know  what  or  how 
much  of  harm  might  come  to  her  from  their 
premature  delivery. 

It  is  true  that  he  had  given  no  promise  to 
Campbell,  and  as  for  the  wishes  of  the  adven 
turer,  Kilgariff  was  in  no  way  bound  to  respect 
them,  and  certainly  he  was  not  disposed  to  do 
so.  His  sole  concern  in  the  matter  was  for 
Evelyn's  welfare,  and  he  could  not  make  up  his 
mind  what  his  course  of  conduct  ought  to  be 
with  respect  to  that.  He  needed  counsel  very 
sorely,  and  there  was  only  one  man  in  all  the 
South  of  whom  he  could  freely  ask  counsel. 
That  man  was  Arthur  Brent,  who  might  be 
still  at  Petersburg,  or  might  have  gone  back  to 
his  laboratory  work  at  Wyanoke. 

In  either  case,  consultation  with  him  seemed 
equally  out  of  the  question.  No  confidence  was 
to  be  placed  in  mails  at  that  disturbed  time,  and 
of  course  Kilgariff  would  not  ask  for  or  accept 
even  the  sick  furlough  which  the  increasing 
inflammation  of  his  neglected  wound  rendered 

211 


EVELYN  BTRD 

exceedingly  desirable,  so  long  as  there  was  well- 
nigh  continuous  fighting  in  progress  at  the  front. 

Altogether,  Owen  Kilgariff  was  sorely  beset 
with  puzzling  uncertainty  of  mind.  He  was  in 
action  during  most  of  the  day  after  the  night 
he  had  spent  with  Campbell,  but  neither  weari 
ness  nor  loss  of  sleep  enabled  him  to  close  his 
eyes  during  the  following  night.  He  lay  through 
out  the  hours  of  darkness  stretched  upon  the 
ground  under  a  great  chestnut  tree,  weary  but 
with  wide-open  eyes,  staring  upward  at  the  stars 
that  showed  through  the  leaves,  and  thinking  to 
no  purpose. 

One  thought  occurred  to  him  at  last  which 
caused  him  suddenly  to  sit  up,  and  for  a  moment 
made  his  heart  bound. 

His  vigil  of  ceaseless  thought  and  perplexity 
had  taught  him  much  of  his  own  soul's  condition 
which  he  had  but  vaguely  guessed  at  before.  It 
had  shown  him  clearly  what  his  feeling  was  to 
ward  Evelyn  Byrd.  He  understood  now,  as  he 
had  not  done  before,  that  his  love  for  the  girl  was 
the  supreme  passion  of  his  life  —  the  limitless, 
all-embracing,  all-conquering  impulse  of  a  strong 
nature  which  had  schooled  itself  to  repression 
and  self-sacrifice.  He  saw  clearly  that  all  this. 
212 


IN  THE  WATCHES  OF  THE  NIGHT 

self-discipline  —  greatly  as  it  had  enabled  him 
to  endure  and  to  make  sacrifice  —  had  given  him 
no  strength  adequate  to  his  present  need.  He 
had  thought  to  conquer  his  passionate  love ;  he 
knew  now  that  he  could  never  conquer  it.  He 
had  thought  to  put  it  out  of  his  mind  as  a  long 
ing  for  the  unattainable;  he  knew  now  that  it 
would  for  ever  refuse  to  be  dismissed. 

"  So  long  as  I  live,"  he  thought,  "  I  must  bear 
this  burden ;  so  long  as  I  live,  I  must  suffer  and 
be  still.  For  I  shall  at  any  rate  retain  too  much 
of  manhood  and  courage  to  win  Evelyn's  love  or 
to  sadden  her  life  by  linking  it  with  my  own. 
My  honour,  at  any  rate,  shall  remain  unspotted. 
Fortunately,  a  bullet  or  a  sabre  stroke  is  likely 
to  solve  all  my  riddles  for  me  before  this  year 
comes  to  an  end  —  and  so  much  the  more  imper 
ative  is  it  that  I  arrange  quickly  for  the  disposal 
of  her  papers  to  her  best  advantage.  But  what 
is  best?  If  these  papers  reveal  to  her  the  cruel 
fact  that  her  father  was  an  adventurer,  a  gam 
bler,  a  swindler  —  and  they  must  if  they  reveal 
anything  —  will  it  not  be  a  great  wrong  to  let  her 
have  them  at  all  ?  And  yet  who  but  herself  has 
a  right  to  decide  that  she  shall  not  receive  what 
ever  revelation  the  documents  may  make  ? " 
213 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Then  it  was  that  the  thought  came  to  Kil- 
gariff  which  made  him  sit  up  suddenly. 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  that  man.  Is  there 
not  in  that  fact  an  offset  to  my  disability  ?  Am 
I  not  free  to  tell  her  concerning  myself,  after 
she  has  learned  her  own  origin,  and  to  stand 
with  eyes  on  a  level  with  her  own,  asking  her  to 
be  my  wife  ?  " 

No  sooner  had  he  formulated  the  thought 
thus  than  he  rejected  it  as  unworthy.  For  a  time 
he  scourged  himself  for  permitting  the  sugges 
tion  to  arise  in  his  mind,  but  presently  he  com 
forted  himself  by  recalling  the  words  of  a  great 
divine  who,  speaking  of  evil  thoughts  quickly 
dismissed,  said :  — 

"  I  cannot  prevent  the  birds  from  flying  over 
my  head,  but  I  can  forbid  them  to  make  nests 
in  my  hair." 

"  I  will  not  let  that  bird  make  a  nest  in  my 
hair,"  thought  Kilgariff,  resolutely,  and  greatly  to 
the  relief  of  his  troubled  conscience. 

At  that  moment  the  reveille  sounded  in  all  the 
camps,  and  Kilgariff  rose  to  his  feet,  stripped 
himself  to  the  waist,  sluiced  his  head,  shoulders, 
and  chest  in  the  cold  water  of  a  neighbouring 
spring,  resumed  his  clothing,  and  was  ready  for 
214 


IN  THE  WATCHES  OF  THE  NIGHT 

the  day's  duties,  whatever  their  nature  might  be. 
But  his  vigil  had  not  brought  him  any  nearer 
than  he  was  before  to  the  solution  of  the  prob 
lems  that  so  greatly  perplexed  him.  It  had  only 
added  a  new  and  distressing  self-knowledge  to 
the  burdens  that  weighed  upon  his  mind.  He 
had  never  feared  death;  now  he  looked  upon 
it  as  a  chance  of  welcome  release  from  a  sorely 
burdened  life.  Thenceforth  he  thought  of  the 
bullets  as  friendly  messengers,  one  of  which 
might  bear  a  message  for  him. 


215 


XV 

IN    THE    TRENCHES 

PERATIONS  in  front  of  Petersburg 
had  by  this  time  settled  down  into  a 
sullenly  obstinate  struggle  for  mastery 
between  the  two  finest  armies  of  veterans  that 
ever  met  each  other  anywhere  in  the  world.  It 
is  no  exaggeration  to  characterise  those  armies 
by  such  superlatives.  For  in  them  it  was  not 
only  organisations  —  regiments,  brigades,  and 
divisions  —  that  were  war-seasoned,  but  the  in 
dividual  men  themselves.  They  had  educated 
themselves  by  four  years  of  fighting  into  a 
personal  perfection  of  soldiership  such  as  has 
nowhere  else  been  seen  among  the  rank  and 
file  of  contending  armies. 

The  slender  lines  of  hastily  constructed  earth 
works  behind  which  these  two  opposing  hosts 
had  confronted  each  other  at  the  beginning  of 
that   supreme  struggle   of   the  war,  had    been 
216 


IN   THE    TRENCHES 

wrought  into  other  and  incalculably  stronger 
forms  by  work  that  had  never  for  one  moment 
ceased  and  would  not  pause  until  the  end. 

The  breastworks  had  been  raised,  broadened, 
and  strengthened  under  the  direction  of  skilled 
engineers.  At  every  salient  angle  a  regular 
fort  of  some  sort  had  been  constructed  and 
heavily  armed  for  offence  and  defence. 

In  rear  of  these  lines  every  little  eminence 
had  been  crowned  by  a  frowning  fortification, 
as  sullen  in  appearance  and  as  capable  of  de 
structive  work  as  the  Redan  or  the  Malakoff  at 
Sebastopol. 

At  brief  intervals  along  the  outer  lines  trav 
erses  had  been  built  at  right  angles  to  the  works, 
as  a  protection  against  all  enfilading  fire. 

The  fields  just  behind  the  lines  were  intri 
cately  laced  with  trenches  and  protective  earth 
works  of  every  kind.  Without  these  the  men 
in  front  would  have  been  completely  cut  off 
from  communication  with  the  rear,  by  a  resist 
less,  all-consuming  fire. 

Great  covered  ways  —  protected  passages  — 

were  cut  as  the  only  avenues  by  which  men  or 

supplies  could  be  moved  even  for  the  shortest 

distances.     Every  spring  that  could  yield  water 

217 


EVELYN  BTRD 

with  which  to  quench  the  thirst  of  the  fighting 
men  was  defended  by  jealous  fortifications. 

There  was  no  more  thought  now  of  enumerat 
ing  the  actions  fought,  or  naming  them.  There 
was  one  continuous  battle,  ceaseless  by  day  or 
by  night,  in  which  dogged  resistance  opposed 
itself  daily  and  hourly  to  desperate  assault,  both 
inspired  by  a  courage  that  did  not  so  much  re 
semble  anything  human  as  it  did  the  struggle  of 
opposing  and  titanic  natural  forces.  Did  the 
reader  ever  see  the  breaking  up  of  the  ice  in  a 
great  river  or  lake,  under  the  angry  impulse  of 
flood  and  storm  ?  As  the  great  ice  floes  in  that 
case  assailed  the  rocks  with  seemingly  resistless 
fury,  and  as  the  rocks  stood  fast  in  the  courage 
of  their  immovability,  so  at  Petersburg  the  op 
posing  forces  met,  day  after  day,  with  the  cour 
age  and  determination  of  inanimate  forces. 

Every  great  gun  that  either  side  could  bring 
from  any  quarter  was  placed  in  position,  so  that 
the  fire,  continuous  by  day  and  by  night,  grew 
steadily  greater  in  volume  and  more  destructive 
in  effect 

In  this  matter  of  guns,  as  well  as  in  numbers 
of  men,  the  Federals  had  enormous  advantage. 
They  had  arsenals  and  foundries  equipped  with 
218 


IN  THE    TRENCHES 

the  most  improved  machinery  to  supply  them, 
and  they  could  draw  freely  upon  the  armouries 
of  Europe,  besides.  The  Confederates  had  no 
such  resources.  The  few  and  small  shops  within 
their  command  were  antiquated  in  their  equip 
ment  and  very  sharply  limited  in  their  capacity. 
But  they  did  their  best. 

As  soon  as  regular  siege  operations  began, 
the  Federals  set  to  work  establishing  mortar 
batteries  at  every  available  point.  Mortars  are 
very  short  guns  fired  at  a  high  "  elevation  " ; 
that  is,  pointing  upward  at  an  angle  of  forty- 
five  degrees  to  the  horizon,  or  more  than  that, 
so  as  to  throw  shells  high  in  air  and  let  them 
fall  perpendicularly  upon  an  enemy's  works, 
breaking  down  defences  and  reaching  points  in 
rear  of  works  to  which  ordinary  cannon  fire  can 
not  penetrate. 

The  lines  were  so  close  together  —  at  one 
point  only  fifty  yards  apart  —  that  everything 
had  to  be  done  under  cover  of  some  kind,  and 
thus  mortars  became  a  vitally  necessary  arm 
with  which  to  break  down  the  enemy's  cover. 
The  Confederates  had  none  of  these  guns  at 
first,  but  their  foundries  were  at  least  capable 
of  manufacturing  so  simple  a  weapon  in  a  rude 
219 


EVELYN  BTRD 

but  effective  fashion,  making  the  mortars  of 
iron  instead  of  brass,  and  mounting  them  in 
oaken  blocks  heavily  banded  with  wrought  iron. 
In  a  very  brief  time  the  mortars  began  to  arrive, 
and  their  numbers  rapidly  increased,  but  there 
were  very  few  of  the  officers  who  knew  how  to 
handle  a  weapon  so  wholly  different  from  or 
dinary  guns  both  in  construction  and  in  methods 
of  use. 

This  scarcity  of  mortar-skilled  officers  in  the 
lower  grades  gave  Owen  Kilgariff  his  opportu 
nity.  The  thought  occurred  to  him  suddenly 
on  the  day  after  his  vigil,  and  he  acted  upon  it 
at  once. 

He  wrote  to  Arthur  Brent,  addressing  his 
letter  to  Wyanoke,  whence  it  would  of  course 
be  forwarded  should  Doctor  Brent  be  at  Peters 
burg  still. 

I  want  you,  Arthur  [he  wrote],  to  use  your  influ 
ence  in  my  behalf  in  a  matter  that  touches  me  closely. 
For  several  reasons  I  want  to  be  ordered  from  this 
place  to  Petersburg.  For  one  thing,  there  is  a  matter 
of  business,  vitally  interesting  to  you  and  me  and 
closely  involving  the  welfare  of  others.  I  simply  must 
see  you  concerning  it  without  delay.  If  I  can  get  to 
22O 


IN   THE   TRENCHES 

Petersburg,  I  can  see  you,  for  Wyanoke  is  near  enough 
to  the  beleaguered  city  for  you  to  visit  me  in  the 
trenches.  There  are  other  reasons,  but  the  necessity 
of  seeing  you  is  the  most  important  and  the  least  per 
sonal  to  myself,  so  I  need  not  bother  you  now  with 
the  other  considerations  that  move  me  to  desire  this 
change,  which  you  can  bring  about  if  you  will  —  and 
I  am  sure  you  will. 

I  should  ask  for  the  transfer  of  the  battery  now 
under  my  command,  if  I  did  not  know  that  it  would 
be  idle  to  do  so.  For  some  reason  General  Early 
seems  to  have  taken  a  fancy  to  me,  and  still  more  to 
two  highly  improved  rifle  guns  that  I  recently  added 
to  the  battery  by  capture.  He  will  never  let  me  go 
unless  compelled  by  orders  to  do  so. 

But  I  see  another  way.  I  learn  that  our  mortar 
fire  at  Petersburg  is  less  effective  than  it  should  be,  by 
reason  of  our  lack  of  battery  officers  skilled  in  hand 
ling  that  species  of  ordnance.  Now  that  is  a  direction 
in  which  I  could  render  specially  valuable  service,  not 
only  by  commanding  many  mortar  pits  myself,  and 
instructing  the  men,  but  also  by  teaching  our  un 
skilled  battery  officers  what  to  do  with  such  guns,  and 
how  to  do  it.  If  you  will  personally  see  General  Lee's 
chief  of  artillery  and  lay  the  case  before  him,  I  am 
sure  he  will  order  me  transferred  to  the  trenches. 
You  can  tell  him  that  I  was  graduated  at  Annapolis, 
221 


EVELYN  BTRD 

taking  special  honours  in  gunnery.  You  need  tell 
him  no  more  of  my  personal  history  than  that  after 
graduation  I  resigned  from  the  navy  to  study  medi 
cine,  and  that  you  learned  to  know  me  well  in  our 
student  days  at  Jena,  Berlin,  and  Paris. 

Do  this  thing  for  me,  Arthur,  and  do  it  as  quickly 
as  possible.  And  as  soon  as  I  reach  Petersburg,  make 
some  occasion  to  see  me  there,  bearing  in  mind  that 
to  see  you  with  reference  to  matters  of  vital  impor 
tance  to  others  is  my  primary  purpose  in  asking  for 
this  tran'sfer. 

Arthur  Brent  was  at  Wyanoke  when  this  let 
ter  came,  but  he  hastened  to  Petersburg  to  exe 
cute  his  friend's  commission.  He  told  more  of 
Kilgariff's  personal  history  than  Kilgariff  •  had 
suggested.  That  is  to  say,  he  told  of  his  gal 
lantry  at  Spottsylvania  and  of  its  mention  in 
general  orders.  He  had  neither  to  urge  nor 
beseech.  No  sooner  was  the  chief  of  artillery 
made  aware  of  the  facts  than  he  answered :  — 

"  I  want  such  a  man  badly.  Orders  for  his 
immediate  transfer  to  the  lines  here  shall  go 
to-day." 

So  it  came  about  that  before  the  end  of  that 
week,  Owen  Kilgariff  stood  in  a  drenching 
rain-storm  and  nearly  up  to  his  knees  in  the 

222 


IN   THE    TRENCHES 

mud  of  a  mortar  pit  at  Petersburg,  bombarding 
a  salient  in  the  enemy's  lines. 

The  storm  of  bullets  and  rifle  shells  that 
raged  around  his  pits  was  as  ceaseless  as  the 
downpour  of  rain,  but  as  calmly  as  a  school 
master  expounding  a  lesson  in  algebra,  he  alter 
nately  instructed  his  men  and  explained  to  the 
half  a  dozen  subaltern  officers  who  had  been 
sent  to  him  to  learn.  He  was  teaching  them 
the  methods  of  mortar  range-finding,  the  details 
of  powder-gauging  for  accuracy,  the  art  of  fuse- 
cutting,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  when  out  of  a 
badly  exposed  covered  way  came  Doctor  Arthur 
Brent  to  greet  him. 


223 


XVI 

THE   STARVING   TIME 

THE  stress  of  war  had  now  fallen  upon 
every  Southern  household.  Its  ter 
rors  had  invaded  every  home.  Its 
privations  made  themselves  manifest  in  scanty 
food  upon  tables  that  had  been  noted  for  lavish 
and  hospitable  abundance,  and  in  a  score  of 
other  ways.  The  people  of  Virginia  were  not 
only  standing  at  bay,  heroically  confronting  an 
invading  force  three  or  four  times  outnumber 
ing  their  own  armies,  but  at  the  same  time  star 
vation  itself  was  staring  them  in  the  face. 

The  food  supplies  of  Virginia  were  exhausted. 
Half  the  State  had  been  trampled  over  by  con 
tending  armies,  until  it  was  reduced  to  a  desert 
so  barren  that  —  as  Sheridan  picturesquely 
stated  the  case  — "  the  crow  that  flies  over  it 
must  carry  his  rations  with  him."  The  other 
half  of  the  State,  already  stripped  to  bareness, 
was  compelled  during  that  terrible  summer, 
224 


THE  STARVING    TIME 

almost  wholly  to  support  the  army  at  Richmond 
and  Petersburg  and  the  army  in  the  valley,  for 
the  reason  that  the  means  of  drawing  even 
scanty  supplies  from  the  well-nigh  exhausted 
country  farther  south  were  practically  de 
stroyed.  Little  by  little  Grant  had  extended 
his  left  southward  and  westward  until  it  crossed 
the  Weldon  Railroad  south  of  Petersburg,  thus 
severing  that  most  important  line  of  communi 
cation.  In  the  meanwhile  the  Federal  cavalry 
was  continually  raiding  the  South  Side  Railroad 
and  the  Richmond  and  Danville  Line,  tearing 
up  tracks,  burning  the  wooden  bridges,  and 
so  seriously  interrupting  traffic  as  to  render 
those  avenues  of  communication  with  the  South 
practically  valueless,  so  far  at  least  as  the  bring 
ing  of  supplies  for  the  armies  was  concerned. 

Thus  Virginia  had  not  only  to  bear  the 
calamities  of  the  war,  but  also,  single-handed, 
to  maintain  the  armies  in  the  field,  and  Vir 
ginia  was  already  stripped  to  the  point  of 
nakedness. 

Yet  the  people  bore  all  with  patriotic  cheer 
fulness.  They  emptied  their  smokehouses, 
their  corncribs,  and  their  granaries.  They 
sent  even  their  milky  herds  to  the  slaughter, 
225 


EVELYN  BTRD 

by  way  of  furnishing  meat  for  soldiers'  rations, 
and  they  went  thereafter  without  milk  and 
butter  for  lack  of  cows,  as  they  were  already 
going  without  meat.  Those  of  them  who  were 
near  enough  the  lines  desolated  their  poultry 
yards,  and  lived  thereafter  upon  corn  pone, 
with  greens  gathered  in  the  fields  and  such 
perishable  fruits  as  could  in  no  wise  be  con 
verted  into  rations. 

The  army  was  being  slowly  destroyed  by  the 
daily  losses  in  the  trenches,  which,  excluding 
the  greater  losses  of  the  more  strenuous  battles, 
amounted  to  about  thirty  per  cent  a  month  in 
the  commands  that  defended  the  most  exposed 
points.  Thus  Owen  Kilgariff's  mortar  com 
mand  of  two  hundred  and  ten  men  lost  sixty- 
two  within  a  single  month,  and  some  others 
lost  still  more  heavily  for  lack  of  the  wise  dis 
cretion  Kilgariff  constantly  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  problem  of  husbanding  the  lives  and 
limbs  of  his  men  while  getting  out  of  them  the 
uttermost  atom  of  effective  service  of  which 
they  were  capable. 

Whenever  a  severe  mortar  fire  was  opened 
upon  his  line  of  pits,  he  would  station  himself 
in  a  peculiarly  exposed  position  on  top  of  the 
226 


THE   STARVING    TIME 

earth  mound  that  protected  his  magazine. 
From  that  point  he  could  direct  the  work  of 
every  gun  under  his  command  and  at  the  same 
time  do  much  for  the  protection  of  his  men. 
A  mortar  shell  can  be  seen  in  the  air  —  particu 
larly  at  night,  when  its  flaming  fuse  is  a  torch 
—  and  its  point  of  contact  and  explosion  can 
be  calculated  with  a  good  deal  of  precision.  It 
was  Kilgariff's  practice  to  watch  for  the  ene 
my's  shells,  and  whenever  he  saw  that  one  of 
them  was  likely  to  fall  within  one  or  other  of 
his  pits  and  explode  there  with  the  certainty 
of  blowing  a  whole  gun  detachment  to  atoms, 
he  would  call  out  the  numbers  of  the  exposed 
pits,  whereupon  the  men  within  them  would 
run  into  the  boom-proofs  provided  for  that  pur 
pose  and  shelter  there  till  the  explosion  was 
over. 

In  the  meanwhile,  he,  posted  high  upon  the 
magazine  mound,  was  exposed  not  only  to  the 
mortar  fire  that  endangered  his  men,  but  still 
more  to  a  hail-storm  of  musket  bullets  and  to 
a  ceaseless  flow  of  rifled  cannon  shells  that 
skimmed  the  edge  of  his  parapet,  with  fuses  so 
skilfully  timed  and  so  accurately  cut  that  every 
shell  exploded  within  a  few  feet  of  his  head. 
227 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  the  kindly  bullet 
or  the  friendly  shell  fragment  that  was  to  make 
an  end  of  his  perplexities.  Who  knows  ?  Yet 
his  exposure  of  himself  was  not  reckless,  but 
carefully  calculated  for  the  preservation  of  his 
men.  It  was  only  such  as  was  common  among 
the  Confederate  officers  at  Petersburg,  where 
the  percentage  of  officers  to  men  among  the 
killed  and  wounded  was  greater  than  was  ever 
recorded  in  any  war  before  or  since. 

By  this  exposure  of  his  own  person  Kilgariff 
undoubtedly  saved  the  lives  of  many  of  his 
men,  all  of  whom  were  volunteers  who  had 
offered  themselves  to  man  a  position  so  dan 
gerous  that  the  chief  of  artillery  had  refused  to 
order  mortars  to  occupy  it,  and  had  reluctantly 
consented  to  its  occupation  by  Kilgariff  and 
his  desperately  daring  men  as  volunteers  in  an 
excessively  perilous  service.  He  might  have 
reduced  his  losses  still  more  if  he  had  been 
willing  to  order  his  subordinates  at  the  several 
groups  of  pits  to  expose  themselves  as  he  did  in 
the  interest  of  the  men.  But  this  he  refused 
to  do,  on  the  ground  that  to  order  it  would  be 
to  exact  more  than  even  a  soldier's  duty  re 
quires  of  the  bravest  man. 
228 


THE   STARVING    TIME 

One  of  his  sergeants  —  a  boy  of  fifteen,  who 
had  won  promotion  by  gallantry  —  had  indeed 
emulated  his  captain's  example  in  the  hope  of 
sparing  his  men.  But  the  second  time  he  did 
it,  a  Hotchkiss  shell  carried  away  his  head  and 
shoulders,  and  the  world  suffered  loss. 

The  hospital  service,  under  such  conditions, 
was  terribly  overtaxed,  and  for  relief  the  plan 
tation  houses  were  asked  to  receive  and  care  for 
such  of  the  wounded  as  could  in  any  wise  be 
removed  to  their  hospitable  shelter.  Thus, 
presently,  every  half-starving  family  in  the 
land  was  caring  for  and  feeding  as  best  it 
could  from  three  to  a  dozen  wounded  men. 

At  Wyanoke  Dorothy  had  met  this  emer 
gency  by  establishing  a  regular  hospital  camp, 
in  which  she  received  and  cared  for  not  less 
than  fifty  wounded  officers  and  men.  With  the 
wise  foresight  that  was  part  of  her  mental 
make-up,  and  aided  by  Arthur's  advance  per 
ceptions  of  what  this  terrible  campaign  was 
likely  to  bring  forth,  Dorothy  had  begun  early 
in  the  spring  to  prepare  for  the  emergency. 
She  had  withdrawn  a  large  proportion  of  the 
field  hands  from  the  cultivation  of  crops,  and 
set  them  at  work  raising  garden  stuff  instead. 
229 


EVELYN  BTRD 

To  the  same  end,  she  had  diverted  to  her  gar 
dens  a  large  part  of  the  stable  fertiliser  which 
was  ordinarily  spread  upon  corn,  wheat,  or 
tobacco  lands.  She  had  said  to  Arthur  :  — 

"There  is  nothing  certain  after  this  year 
except  disaster.  We  must  meet  disaster  as 
bravely  as  we  can,  and  leave  the  future  to  take 
care  of  itself.  I  shall  devote  all  our  resources 
this  year,  outside  the  poppy  fields,  to  the  pro 
duction  of  food  stuffs  —  vegetables,  fowls,  and 
pigs  —  with  which  to  feed  the  wounded  who 
must  presently  come  to  us." 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Dorothy  was  able  to 
care  for  fifty  wounded  men  at  a  time,  when  the 
mistresses  of  other  plantations  as  great  as 
Wyanoke  and  Pocahontas  found  themselves 
sorely  taxed  in  taking  ten.  And  as  the  wounded 
men  were  impatient  to  get  back  into  the  trenches 
as  soon  as  their  injuries  were  endurably  half 
healed,  the  ministry  of  mercy  at  Wyanoke  was 
brought  to  bear  upon  many  hundreds  of  brave 
fellows  during  that  most  terrible  of  summers, 
and  the  fame  of  Dorothy  Brent  as  an  angel  of 
mercy  and  kindness  spread  throughout  the  army, 
fairly  rivalling  that  of  her  mother  —  unknown 
as  such  —  Madame  Le  Sud.  Madame  Le  Sud, 
230 


THE   STARRING    TIME 

defiant  alike  of  weariness  and  danger,  poured 
water  down  many  parched  throats  on  Cemetery 
Hill  at  Petersburg,  until  at  last  a  Mini6  ball 
made  an  end  of  her  ministry ;  and  on  that  same 
day  a  dozen  brave  fellows  fell  while  carving  her 
name  on  a  rude  boulder  which  marked  the  place 
of  her  final  sacrifice.  The  places  of  those  who 
fell  in  this  service  were  promptly  taken  by 
others  equally  intent,  at  whatever  cost,  upon 
marking  for  remembrance  the  spot  on  which 
that  woman  gave  up  her  life  who  had  ministered 
so  heroically  to  human  suffering. 

All  these  things  are  only  incidents  illustrative 
of  that  heroism  on  the  part  of  women  which  the 
poet,  if  we  had  a  poet,  would  seize  upon  as  the 
vital  and  essential  story  of  the  Confederate  war. 
If  that  heroism  could  be  properly  celebrated,  it 
would  make  a  literature  worthy  to  stand  shoul 
der  to  shoulder  with  the  hero-songs  of  old 
Homer  himself.  But  that  story  of  woman's 
love  and  woman's  sacrifice  has  never  been  told 
and  never  will  be,  for  the  reason  that  there  is 
none  worthy  to  tell  it  among  those  of  us  who 
survive  of  those  who  saw  it  and  knew  the  self- 
sacrificing  absoluteness  of  its  heroism. 

Into  all  this  work  of  mercy  Evelyn  Byrd 
231 


EVELYN  BTRD 

entered  not  only  with  enthusiasm,  but  with  the 
tireless  energy  of  healthy  youth  and  with  a 
queer  sagacity  —  born,  perhaps,  of  her  strange 
life-experience  —  which  enabled  her  sometimes 
to  double  or  quadruple  the  beneficent  effects  of 
her  work  by  the  deftness  of  its  doing. 

Her  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  rather  astonished 
Dorothy,  at  first.  If  the  girl  had  been  brought 
up  in  Virginia,  if  her  home  had  always  been 
there,  if  she  had  had  a  people  of  her  own  there, 
with  a  father  and  a  brother  in  the  trenches,  her 
devotion  would  have  been  natural  enough.  But 
none  of  those  reasons  for  her  enthusiasm  ex 
isted.  She  had  probably  been  born  in  Virginia, 
or  at  least  of  Virginian  parentage,  though  even 
that  assumption  rested  upon  no  better  founda 
tion  than  the  fact  that  she  bore  a  historic  Vir 
ginian  name.  She  had  lived  elsewhere  during 
her  childhood  and  youth.  She  had  come  into 
the  Southern  country  under  compulsion,  and 
three  fourths  of  the  war  was  over  before  she 
came.  So  far  as  she  knew,  she  had  no  relatives 
in  Virginia,  and  very  certainly  she  had  none 
there  whom  she  knew  and  loved. 

Yet  she  was  passionate  almost  to  madness  in 
her  Virginianism,  and  she  was  self-sacrificing 
232 


THE   STARVING    TIME 

even  beyond  the  standards  of  the  other  heroic 
women  around  her. 

That  she  should  enter  passionately  into  any  cause 
into  which  she  enters  at  all  [wrote  Dorothy  to  Arthur 
during  one  of  his  absences  at  the  front]  is  altogether 
natural.  Her  nature  is  passionate  in  an  extreme  de 
gree,  and,  good  as  her  judgment  is  when  it  is  cool, 
she  sends  it  about  its  business  whenever  it  assumes  to 
meddle  with  her  passionate  impulses.  She  has  certain 
well-fixed  principles  of  conduct,  from  which  she  never 
departs  by  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth — chiefly,  I 
imagine,  because  they  are  principles  which  she  has 
wrought  out  in  her  mind  without  anybody's  teaching  or 
anybody's  suggestion.  They  are  the  final  results  of  her 
own  thinking.  She  regards  them  as  ultimates  of  truth. 
But  subject  to  these,  she  is  altogether  a  creature  of 
impulse.  Even  to  save  one  she  loves  from  great  calam 
ity,  she  would  not  think  of  compromising  the  most 
trivial  of  her  fundamental  principles  ;  yet  for  the  sake 
of  one  she  loves,  she  would  sacrifice  herself  inimitably 
even  upon  the  most  trivial  occasion.  It  is  a  danger 
ous  character  to  possess,  but  a  most  interesting  one  to 
study,  and  certainly  it  is  admirable. 

Arthur  smiled  lovingly  as  he  read  this  analy 
sis.       "  How    little   we    know    ourselves ! "    he 
exclaimed,  in  thought.     "  If  I  had  worked  with 
233 


EVELYN  BTRD 

pen  and  paper  for  a  month  in  an  effort  to 
describe  Dorothy's  own  character  fittingly,  I 
could  n't  have  done  it  so  perfectly  as  she  has 
done  it  in  describing  the  make-up  of  Evelyn. 
Yet  she  never  for  one  moment  suspects  the 
similarity.  Just  because  the  external  circum 
stances  are  different  in  the  two  cases,  she  is 
utterly  blind  to  the  parallel.  It  does  n't  matter. 
It  is  far  better  to  have  such  a  character  as 
Dorothy's  than  to  try  to  create  it  —  much  better 
to  have  it  than  to  know  that  she  has  it." 

It  is  worthy  of  observation  and  remark  that 
in  his  thinking  about  this  matter  of  character, 
and  admiring  and  loving  it,  Arthur  Brent  con 
nected  the  subject  altogether  with  Dorothy,  not 
at  all  with  Evelyn. 

That  was  because  Arthur  Brent  was  in  love 
with  his  wife,  and  happy  is  the  man  with  whom 
such  a  love  lingers  and  dominates  after  the 
honeymoon  is  over ! 

One  day  Dorothy  and  Evelyn  talked  of  this 
matter  of  Evelyn's  enthusiasm  for  the  Confed 
erate  cause  and  her  passionate  devotion  to  those 
who  had  received  wounds  in  the  service  of  it. 
It  was  Evelyn  who  started  the  conversation. 

"The  best  thing  about  you,  Dorothy,"  she 
234 


THE  STARVING    TIME 

said,  one  morning  while  they  two  were  waiting 
for  a  decoction  they  were  making  to  drip 
through  the  filtering-paper,  "  is  your  devotion 
to  Cousin  Arthur."  Evelyn  had  come  to  that 
stage  of  Virginian  culture  in  which  affection 
expressed  itself  in  the  claiming  of  kinship  where 
there  was  none.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  that  is 
the  way  every  woman  should  feel  toward  her 
husband,  if  he  is  worthy  of  it,  as  Cousin  Arthur 
is." 

"  Tell  me  your  whole  thought,  Byrdie,"  an 
swered  Dorothy,  who  had  fastened  that  pet 
name  upon  her  companion.  "  It  interests  me." 

"  Well,  you  see  I  have  n't  seen  much  of  this 
sort  of  thing  between  husbands  and  wives, 
though  I  am  satisfied  it  ought  to  exist  in  every 
marriage.  I  heard  a  woman  lecture  once  on 
what  she  called  the  '  Subjection  of  Women.' 
She  made  me  so  angry  that  I  wanted  to  answer 
her  —  mere  slip  of  a  girl  that  I  was  —  but  they 
—  well,  I  was  n't  let.  That  is  n't  good  English, 
I  know,  but  it  is  what  I  mean.  The  woman 
wanted  to  strike  the  word  '  obey '  out  of  the 
marriage  service,  just  as  if  the  form  of  a  mar 
riage  ceremony  had  anything  to  do  with  a  real 
marriage.  As  well  as  I  could  make  out  her 
235 


EVELYN  BTRD 

meaning,  she  wanted  every  woman  to  enter 
upon  wedlock  with  fixed  bayonets,  with  her 
glove  in  the  ring,  and  with  a  challenge  upon 
her  lips.  I  don't  believe  in  any  such  marriage 
as  that.  I  regard  it  as  an  infamous  degrada 
tion  of  a  holy  relation.  It  is  n't  marriage  at  all. 
It  is  a  mere  bargain,  like  a  contract  for  supplies 
or  any  other  contract.  You  see,  I  had  never 
seen  a  perfect  marriage  like  yours  and  Cousin 
Arthur's  at  that  time,  but  I  had  thought  about 
it,  because  I  had  seen  the  other  kind.  It  was 
my  idea  that  in  a  true  marriage  the  wife  would 
obey  for  love,  while  for  love  the  husband  would 
avoid  commanding.  I  don't  think  I  can  explain 
—  but  you  understand  me,  Dorothy  —  you  must 
understand,  because  it  is  just  so  with  you  and 
Cousin  Arthur." 

"  Yes,  I  understand,"  answered  Dorothy. 

"  Of  course  you  do.  You  are  never  so  happy 
as  in  doing  whatever  you  think  Cousin  Arthur 
would  like  you  to  do,  and  he  never  wants  you  to 
do  anything  except  what  it  pleases  you  to  do. 
I  reckon  the  whole  thing  may  be  ciphered  down 
to  this :  you  love  Cousin  Arthur,  and  Cousin  Ar 
thur  loves  you ;  each  wants  the  other  to  be  free 
and  happy,  and  each  acts  as  is  most  likely  to 
236 


THE   STJRyiNG    TIME 

produce  that  result.  I  can't  think  of  any  better 
way  than  that." 

"  Neither  can  I,"  answered  Dorothy,  with  two 
glad  tears  glistening  on  her  cheeks ;  "  and  I  am 
glad  that  you  understand.  I  can't  imagine  any 
thing  that  could  be  better  for  you  than  to  think  in 
that  way.  But  tell  me,  Byrdie,  why  you  are  so 
enthusiastic  in  our  Southern  cause  and  in  your 
ministry  to  our  wounded  soldiers  ?  " 

"Because  your  cause  is  my  cause.  I  haven't 
any  friends  in  the  world  but  you  and  Cousin 
Arthur,  and  —  your  friends." 

Dorothy  observed  that  the  girl  paused  before 
adding  "  —  and  your  friends,"  and  Dorothy  un 
derstood  that  the  girl  was  thinking  of  Owen 
Kilgariff.  To  Dorothy  it  meant  much  that  she 
avoided  all  mention  of  Kilgariff's  name. 

The  girl  had  completely  lost  her  mannerisms 
of  speech  in  a  very  brief  while,  a  fact  which 
Dorothy  attributed  to  her  rare  gift  of  imitation. 
Only  once  in  a  great  while,  when  she  was  under 
excitement,  did  she  lapse  into  the  peculiarities 
either  of  pronunciation  or  of  construction  which 
had  at  first  been  so  marked  a  characteristic  of 
her  utterance.  She  read  voraciously  now,  read 
ing  always,  apparently,  with  minute  attention 
237 


EVELYN  BTRD 

to  language  in  her  eager  desire  to  learn.  Her 
time  for  reading  was  practically  made  time. 
That  is  to  say,  it  consisted  chiefly  of  brief  inter 
vals  between  occupations.  She  was  up  every 
morning  at  five  o'clock,  in  order  that  she  might 
go  to  the  stables  and  personally  see  to  it  that 
the  horses  and  mules  were  properly  fed  and 
curried. 

"  The  negroes  neglect  them  shamefully  when 
I  am  not  there  in  Cousin  Arthur's  place,"  she 
said,  "  and  it  is  cruel  to  neglect  poor  dumb  beasts 
that  cannot  provide  for  themselves  or  even  utter 
a  complaint." 

As  soon  after  seven  as  Dorothy's  nursery 
duties  permitted,  the  two  mounted  their  horses 
and  rode  away  for  a  half -intoxicating  draught  of 
the  air  of  a  Virginia  summer  morning.  Return 
ing  to  a  nine  o'clock  "breakfast  of  rags,"  as 
Dorothy  called  the  scant,  makeshift  meal  that 
alone  was  possible  to  them  in  that  time  of  stress, 
Evelyn  went  at  once  to  the  laboratory.  After 
setting  matters  going  there,  she  mounted  again 
and  rode  away  to  the  camp  of  the  wounded  sol 
diers  to  whose  needs  she  ministered  with  a  skill 
and  circumspection  that  had  been  born  of  her 
peculiar  experience  in  remote  places. 
238 


THE  STARVING   TIME 

"The  best  medicine  she  brings  us,"  said  one 
of  the  wounded  men,  one  day,  "is  her  laugh." 
And  yet  Evelyn  rarely  laughed  at  all.  It  was 
her  ever  present  smile  and  the  general  joyous- 
ness  of  her  countenance  that  the  invalids  inter 
preted  as  laughter. 

She  always  carried  a  light  shot-gun  with  her, 
and  she  rarely  returned  to  the  "gre't  house" 
without  three  or  four  squirrels  for  her  own  and 
Dorothy's  dinner.  Now  and  then  she  filled  her 
bag  with  partridges  —  or  "  quails,"  as  those  most 
toothsome  of  game  birds  are  generally,  and  quite 
improperly,  called  at  the  North.  When  Septem 
ber  came,  she  got  an  occasional  wild  turkey  also, 
her  skill  both  in  finding  game  and  in  the  use  of 
her  gun  being  unusually  good. 

One  day  Dorothy  challenged  her  on  this 
point. 

"  You  are  a  sentimentalist  on  the  subject  of 
animals,"  she  said,  "  and  yet  you  are  a  hunts- 
woman." 

"  But  why  not  ? "  asked  Evelyn,  in  astonishment 
at  the  implied  question.  "  In  the  summer,  the 
wild  creatures  multiply  enormously.  When  the 
winter  comes,  they  starve  to  death  because  there 
is  not  food  enough.  In  the  fall,  the  woods  are 
239 


EVELYN  BTRD 

full  of  them ;  in  the  spring,  there  are  very  few. 
Nine  tenths  of  them  must  die  in  any  case,  and 
if  my  gun  hastens  the  death  of  one,  it  betters 
the  chance  of  another  to  survive.  I  could  never 
deceive  them,  or  persuade  them  to  trust  me  and 
then  betray  their  trust.  I  don't  think  I  am  a 
sentimentalist,  Dorothy,  and  —  " 

Just  then  Dorothy  thought  of  something  else 
and  said  it,  and  the  conversation  was  diverted 
into  other  channels. 

Nearly  always  Evelyn  had  a  book  with  her, 
which  she  read  at  odd  moments,  and  quite  always 
she  had  one  book  or  more  lying  around  the 
house,  each  open  at  the  place  at  which  she  had 
last  read,  and  each  lying  ready  to  her  hand 
whenever  a  moment  of  leisure  should  come  in 
her  very  busy  day.  For  besides  her  attendance 
upon  the  sick,  she  relieved  Dorothy  of  the 
greater  part  of  her  household  duties,  and  was 
tireless  in  her  work  in  the  laboratory.  Her 
knowledge  of  chemistry  was  scant,  of  course, 
but  she  had  quickly  and  completely  mastered 
the  processes  in  use  in  the  laboratory,  and  her 
skill  in  drug  manufacture  was  greater  than  that 
of  many  persons  more  familiar  with  the  tech 
nical  part  of  that  work. 

240 


THE   STARRING    TIME 

She  had  from  the  first  taken  exclusive  care 
of  her  own  room,  peremptorily  ordering  all  the 
maids  to  keep  out  of  it. 

"A  maid  always  reminds  me,"  she  said  to 
Dorothy,  by  way  of  offering  an  explanation 
that  did  not  explain ;  for  she  did  not  complete 
her  sentence.  But  so  earnest  was  her  objection 
that,  even  to  the  daily  polishing  of  the  white 
ash  floor  with  a  pine  needle  rubbing,  she  did 
everything  within  those  precincts  with  her  own 
hands. 

Dorothy  let  her  have  her  way.  It  was  Doro 
thy's  habit  to  let  others  do  as  they  pleased  so 
long  as  their  pleasing  was  harmless. 


241 


XVII 

A   GUN-PIT   CONFERENCE 

FOR  full  half  an  hour  after  Arthur  Brent 
came  out  of  the  covered  way  and  greeted 
his  friend,  Kilgariff's  bombardment  and 
the  enemy's  vigorous  response  continued.     Ar 
thur  Brent  stood  by  his  friend  in  the  midst  of  it 
all  quite  as  if  "  the  scream  of  shot,  the  burst  of 
shell,  and  the  bellowing  of  the  mortars "  had 
been  nothing  more  than  a  harmless  exhibition 
of  "  pyrotechny  for  our  neighbour  moon,"  as 
Bailey  phrases  it  in  Festus. 

It  did  not  occur  to  Kilgariff  to  invite  Doctor 
Brent  to  take  refuge  in  one  of  the  bomb-proofs 
till  the  fierceness  of  the  fire  should  be  past.  It 
never  did  occur  to  Owen  Kilgariff  that  a  gentle 
man  of  education  and  culture  could  think  of 
shrinking  from  danger,  even  though,  as  in  this 
case,  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  war  busi 
ness  immediately  in  hand,  but  was,  technically 
at  least,  a  non-combatant.  Indeed,  that  gallant 
242 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

corps  of  doctors  who  constituted  the  medical 
field-service  in  the  Confederate  army  never  did 
regard  themselves  as  non-combatants,  at  least 
so  far  as  going  into  or  keeping  out  of  danger 
was  concerned.  They  fired  no  guns,  indeed, 
but  in  all  other  ways  they  participated  in  the 
field-fighting  on  quite  equal  terms  with  officers 
of  the  line.  Wherever  their  duty  called  them, 
wherever  an  errand  of  mercy  demanded  their 
presence,  they  went  without  hesitation  and  stayed 
without  flinching.  They  performed  the  most 
delicate  operations,  where  a  moment's  unsteadi 
ness  of  hand  must  have  cost  a  human  life,  while 
shells  were  bursting  about  their  heads  and  mul 
titudinous  bullets  were  whistling  in  their  ears. 
Sometimes  their  patients  were  blown  out  of 
their  hands  by  a  cannon  shot.  Sometimes  the 
doctors  themselves  went  to  their  death  while 
performing  operations  on  the  battlefield. 

In  one  case  a  surgeon  was  shot  unto  death 
while  holding  an  artery  end.  But  while  waiting 
for  the  death  that  he  knew  must  come  within 
the  brief  space  of  a  few  minutes,  the  gallant 
fellow  held  his  forceps  firmly  and  directed  his 
assistant  how  to  tie  the  blood  vessel.  Then  he 
gave  up  the  ghost,  in  the  very  act  of  thus  saving 
243 


EVELYN  BTRD 

a  human  life  perhaps  not  worth  a  hundredth  part 
of  his  own.  The  heroism  of  war  does  not  lie 
altogether  with  those  who  make  desperate 
charges  or  desperately  receive  them. 

Arthur  Brent  was  high  in  rank  in  that  medical 
corps,  the  cool  courage  of  whose  members,  if  it 
could  be  adequately  set  forth,  would  constitute 
as  heroic  a  story  as  any  that  has  ever  been  re 
lated  in  illustration  of  daring  and  self-sacrifice, 
and  he  honoured  his  rank  in  his  conduct.  His 
duty  lay  sometimes  in  the  field,  whither  he  went 
to  organise  and  direct  the  work  of  others,  and 
sometimes  in  the  laboratory,  where  no  element 
of  danger  existed.  In  either  case  he  did  his 
duty  with  never  a  thought  of  self  and  never  a 
question  of  the  cost. 

On  this  occasion  he  stood  upon  the  exposed 
mound  of  the  magazine,  watching  Kilgariff' s 
splendid  work  with  the  guns,  until  at  last  the 
bombardment  ceased  as  suddenly  and  as  mean- 
inglessly  as  it  had  begun ;  for  that  was  the  way 
with  bombardments  on  those  lines. 

When  at  last  the  fire  sank  to  its  ordinary  dead 
level  of  ceaseless  sharp-shooting,  with  only  now 
and  then  a  cannon  shot  to  punctuate  the  irregu 
lar  rattle  of  the  rifles,  Kilgariff  gave  the  order, 
244 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

"  Cease  firing,"  and  the  clamorous  mortars  were 
stilled.  Then  he  turned  to  the  officers  who  had 
come  to  him  for  instruction,  and  said :  — 

"  Some  of  my  men  have  been  quick  to  learn 
and  are  now  experts.  If  any  of  you  gentlemen 
desire  it,  I  will  send  some  of  the  best  of  them  to 
you  now  and  then  to  help  you  instruct  your  can- 
noniers  and  your  gunners.  You  will  yourselves 
impress  upon  the  magazine  men  the  importance 
of  not  compressing  the  powder  in  measuring  it. 
A  very  slight  inattention  at  that  point  often 
makes  a  difference  of  twenty-five  or  fifty  yards 
in  the  range,  and  so  renders  worthless  and  in 
effective  a  shell  which  might  otherwise  do  its 
work  well.  If  you  need  the  services  of  any  of 
my  men  as  tutors  to  your  own,  pray  call  upon 
me.  Now  good  evening.  I  'm  sorry  I  cannot 
invite  you  to  sup  with  me,  but  I  really  have  n't 
so  much  as  a  hard-tack  biscuit  to  offer  you." 

When  the  officers  had  gone,  Kilgariff  and 
Brent  seated  themselves  on  top  of  the  magazine 
mound  and  talked. 

"  First  of  all,"  said  Arthur  Brent,  "  I  want  to 
hear  about  the  things  personal  to  yourself.  You 
put  them  aside,  in  your  letter,  as  of  smaller  con 
sequence  than  the  matters,  whatever  they  were, 
245 


EVELYN  BTRD 

which  related  to  others.  I  do  not  so  regard 
them.  So  tell  me  first  of  them." 

"  Oh,  those  things  have  pretty  well  settled 
themselves,"  answered  Kilgariff,  with  a  touch  of 
disgust  in  his  tone.  "  It  was  only  that  I  very 
much  wanted  to  decline  this  captain's  commis 
sion,  under  which  I  have  been  commanding  sixty 
mortars  and  something  like  a  battalion  of  men 
here.  General  Early  fairly  forced  the  rank 
upon  me,  after  Captain  Pollard  lost  his  leg — " 

"  By  the  way,"  interrupted  Doctor  Brent, 
"  Pollard  is  at  Wyanoke  and  convalescent.  With 
his  superb  constitution  and  his  lifelong  whole- 
someness  of  living,  his  recovery  has  been  rapid. 
He  very  much  wants  to  see  you.  He  would  like 
you  to  continue  in  command  of  his  battery —  or 
would  have  liked  it  if  you  had  not  been  trans 
ferred  to  Petersburg.  He  is  a  major  now,  you 
know,  promoted  for  gallantry  and  good  service, 
and  when  he  returns  to  duty  (which  will  be 
within  a  day  or  two)  he  will  have  command  of 
his  battalion.  Of  course,  your  special  qualifi 
cation  for  the  work  you  are  doing  here  forbids 
you  to  go  back  to  your  battery.  The  chief  of 
artillery  would  never  permit  that.  But  I  'm  in 
terrupting.  Tell  me  what  you  set  out  to  say." 
246 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

"  Well,  it 's  all  simple  enough.  'You  know  my 
reasons  for  wishing  to  be  an  enlisted  man  rather 
than  a  commissioned  officer.  When  I  wrote  to 
you,  I  was  acting  as  captain  under  General 
Early's  peremptory  orders,  but  the  commission 
he  had  asked  the  authorities  at  Richmond  to 
send  me  bad  not  yet  come.  I  knew  that  if  it 
should  come  while  I  was  with  Early,  he  would 
never  let  me  decline  it.  He  would  have  refused 
even  to  forward  my  declination  through  the  reg 
ular  channels.  It  was  my  hope  to  get  myself 
ordered  to  Petersburg  before  the  commission 
could  come. 

"  In  that  case,  I  thought,  I  could  decline  it 
and  take  service  in  my  own  non-commissioned 
rank  as  sergeant-major  and  special  drill-master 
for  the  mortar  batteries.  But  the  commission 
came,  through  Early,  on  the  day  before  I  left 
the  valley,  and  when  I  reported  here  for  duty, 
asking  to  have  it  cancelled,  the  chief  of  artillery 
peremptorily  refused.  He  took  me  to  General 
Lee's  headquarters  and  there  explained  the 
situation.  General  Lee  settled  the  matter  by 
saying  that  I  could  render  much  better  service 
with  a  commission  than  without  one,  and  that 
he  '  desired '  me  to  act  in  the  capacity  to  which 
247 


EVELYN  BTRD 

I  had  been  commissioned.  I  had  no  choice  but 
to  yield  to  his  wish,  of  course,  so  I  took  com 
mand  here  as  captain,  and  immediately  all  the 
fragments  of  batteries  that  had  been  disinte 
grated  during  the  campaign,  and  especially 
those  whose  officers  had  been  killed  or  captured, 
were  turned  over  to  me  to  be  converted  into 
mortar  men. 

"  They  number  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  some  of  whom  are  non-commissioned  offi 
cers,  ranking  all  the  way  from  corporal  to  ser 
geant-major,  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  handle 
the  command  effectively  under  a  single  com 
pany  organisation.  I  made  a  report  on  the 
matter  two  days  ago  suggesting  that  the  body 
be  organised  into  a  number  of  small,  compact 
companies,  and  that  some  major  of  artillery 
already  holding  his  commission  be  ordered  to 
assume  control  of  the  whole.  To-day  came  my 
reply  —  about  two  hours  ago.  It  was  to  the 
effect  that  by  recommendation  of  the  chief  of 
artillery,  approved  by  General  Lee,  I  had  been 
appointed  lieutenant-colonel,  in  command  of  all 
the  mortars  on  this  part  of  the  line.  I  am 
instructed  to  organise  this  service  with  a  view 
to  effectiveness,  and  to  report  only  through  the 
248 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

chief  of  artillery,  without  the  intervention  of 
any  colonel  or  brigadier  or  major-general.  I 
cannot  refuse  to  obey  such  orders,  given  in  aid 
of  effective  service.  I  cannot  even  ask  to  be 
excused  without  offering  an  affront  to  my  supe 
riors  and  seeming,  at  least,  to  shirk  that  service 
in  which  they  think  I  can  make  the  best  use  of 
my  capacities  in  behalf  of  our  cause. 

"  So  that  matter  has  settled  itself.  I  shall 
have  two  stars  sewed  upon  my  collar  to-night, 
and  to-morrow  morning  I  shall  begin  the  work 
of  reorganising  the  mortar  service.  I  shall 
encounter  very  black  looks  in  the  countenances 
of  some  of  the  courteous  captains  whom  you 
saw  here  half  an  hour  ago.  They  are  men  who 
care  for  military  rank,  as  I  do  not,  and  they  will 
not  be  pleased  to  find  themselves  overslaughed 
by  my  promotion.  They  will  never  believe  that 
I  wish,  even  more  heartily  than  they  can,  that 
some  one  of  them  had  been  set  to  do  this  duty, 
and  that  I  might  have  returned  to  the  ranks. 
But  a  soldier  must  take  what  comes.  I  must 
accept  their  black  looks,  and  their  jealousies, 
and  perhaps  even  the  lasting  enmity  of  some  of 
them,  precisely  as  I  accept  the  fact  of  the  shells 
flung  at  me  by  the  enemy." 
249 


EVELYN  BTRD 

At  that  moment  a  sergeant  approached,  and, 
saluting,  said  :  — 

"Captain  Kilgariff  "  —  for  Kilgariff  had  not 
yet  announced  his  promotion  even  to  his  men  — 
"  one  of  the  men  is  hurt  by  a  fragment  of  the 
shell  that  burst  over  us  half  a  minute  ago.  He 
seems  badly  wounded." 

Instantly  Kilgariff  and  Arthur  Brent  hurried 
to  the  pit  where  the  wounded  man  lay,  and 
Doctor  Brent  dressed  his  wound,  which  was 
serious.  At  his  suggestion,  Kilgariff  ordered 
two  of  the  men  to  carry  the  stricken  one  to 
the  rear  through  the  covered  way,  and  deliver 
him  to  the  surgeons  of  the  nearest  field-hospital. 

Just  as  the  party  started,  a  huge  fifteen-inch 
mortar  shell  descended  from  a  great  height, 
struck  the  apex  of  the  earth  mound  that  covered 
the  magazine,  where  ten  minutes  before  the  two 
friends  had  been  sitting  in  converse,  and  there 
instantly  exploded  with  great  violence. 

Kilgariff  hastened  to  inspect.  He  found  the 
magazine  intact,  so  far,  at  least,  as  its  contents 
were  concerned.  There  were  more  than  a  thou 
sand  pounds  of  Dupont  rifle  powder  there,  se 
cured  in  wooden  boxes  called  "  monkeys,"  and 
there  were  two  thousand  mortar  shells  there 
250 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

also,  each  weighing  twenty-four  pounds,  each 
terribly  destructive,  potentially  at  least,  and 
each  loaded  with  a  heavy  charge  of  gunpowder. 
Fortunately  the  explosion  of  the  gigantic  shell 
had  not  ignited  the  magazine.  Had  it  done  so, 
neither  a  man  nor  a  gun  nor  any  trace  of  either 
would  have  remained  in  all  that  circle  of  mortar 
pits,  to  tell  the  tale  of  their  occupancy. 

But  practically  all  of  the  earth  that  had  con 
stituted  the  mound  had  been  blown  completely 
away,  and  some  of  the  timbers  that  had  sup 
ported  it  had  been  crushed  till  they  had  broken 
and  fallen  in.  The  man  who  had  been  in  charge 
of  the  magazine  was  found  crushed  to  a  pulp  by 
the  falling  of  the  timbers. 

When  Kilgariff  had  fully  explored,  and  dis 
covered  the  extent  of  the  disaster,  he  swore. 
Pointing  to  the  mangled  body  of  the  man  who 
had  been  caught  in  the  ruin,  he  said  to  Arthur 
Brent :  — 

"  There  was  never  a  better  man  than  Johnny 
Garrett.  He  had  a  wife  and  four  children  up 
in  Fauquier  County.  The  wife  is  a  widow 
now,  and  the  children  are  orphans,  and  Johnny 
Garrett  is  a  shapeless  mass  of  inert  human  flesh, 
all  because  of  the  incapacity  of  an  engineer, 
251 


EVELYN  BTRD 

damn  him  !  I  know  the  fellow  —  "  But  before 
continuing,  Kilgariff  turned  to  a  sergeant  and 
said :  — 

"  Go  at  once  to  General  Gracie's  headquarters, 
and  say  that  Lieutenant-colonel  Kilgariff  — 
be  sure  to  say  Lieutenant-colonel  Kilgariff — 
commanding  the  mortars,  asks  the  instant  at 
tendance  of  a  capable  engineer  and  at  least 
twenty-five  sappers  and  miners  to  repair  dam 
ages  and  guard  against  an  imminent  danger  at 
Fort  Lamkin.  If  General  Gracie  cannot  fur 
nish  the  assistance  needed,  go  to  General  Bush- 
rod  Johnson's  headquarters  and  prefer  a  like 
request.  Take  a  look  first,  and  you  '11  under 
stand  how  imperative  it  is  to  get  help  at  once. 
There  lie  a  thousand  pounds  of  rifle  powder  ex 
posed  to  every  spark  that  a  shell  may  fling  into 
it ;  and  there  are  two  thousand  loaded  shells  to 
explode.  Go  quickly,  and  don't  return  without 
the  assistance  required." 

Ten  minutes  later  came  the  sappers  and 
miners,  armed  with  picks,  shovels,  axes,  and  the 
other  tools  of  their  trade.  At  their  head  was 
the  engineer  officer,  Captain  Harbach,  who  had 
constructed  the  magazine  in  the  first  place. 

Kilgariff  was  a  cool,  self-possessed  person, 
252 


A    GUN-PIT   CONFERENCE 

who  very  rarely  lost  his  temper  in  any  obvious 
fashion.  But  when  he  saw  Harbach  in  com 
mand,  he  had  difficulty  in  controlling  himself. 
Pointing  to  the  ruined  magazine,  he  said  :  — 

"  See  one  result  of  your  carelessness  and  gross 
ignorance." 

Then,  pointing  to  the  crushed  and  mangled 
body  of  Johnny  Garrett,  he  added  :  — 

"  Look  upon  another  result  of  your  criminal 
ity  in  seeking  a  commission  in  the  engineers 
when  you  perfectly  knew  you  had  no  adequate 
knowledge  of  engineering.  When  you  were 
constructing  that  magazine,  I  warned  you  that 
your  single  tier  of  timbers  under  the  earth  was 
insufficient.  I  reminded  you  of  the  importance 
of  adequately  protecting  the  vast  amount  of 
powder  that  must  be  stored  there.  I  begged 
you  to  use  longer  timbers  for  the  sake  of  greater 
elasticity,  and  to  use  three  tiers  of  them  instead 
of  one.  Your  rank  at  that  time  was  older  than 
my  own,  and  I  could  only  give  you  advice,  which 
you  disregarded.  You  now  have  before  you 
abundant  evidence  of  your  own  criminal  igno 
rance,  your  own  criminal  neglect  of  plain  duty, 
your  own  criminal  folly.  For  these  I  shall  pre 
fer  charges  against  you  before  this  night  ends, 
253 


and  I  shall  press  those  charges  with  vigour 
enough  to  offset  even  the  personal  and  political 
influence  that  secured  a  commission  for  an  in 
capable  like  you." 

Kilgariff  was  in  a  towering  rage,  and  with 
the  mangled  body  of  Johnny  Garrett  lying  there 
before  him  for  his  text,  he  found  it  impossible 
to  restrain  his  speech  ;  but  to  the  very  end,  that 
speech  was  so  far  under  control  that  its  tones, 
at  least,  gave  no  indication  of  the  excitement 
that  inspired  it.  If  the  man  speaking  had  been 
delivering  a  university  lecture,  his  voice  and 
manner  could  scarcely  have  been  under  better 
control. 

When  he  paused,  Harbach  broke  in  :  — 

"  Be  careful  of  your  words,  Captain  Kil 
gariff— " 

"  Lieutenant-colonel  Kilgariff,  if  you  please ; 
that  is  my  present  rank,  and  I  '11  trouble  you 
to  recognise  it." 

"  Oh,  well,  Lieutenant-colonel  Kilgariff,  if 
that  pleases  you  better.  Be  careful  of  your 
words.  You  have  already  spoken  some  for 
which  I  shall  hold  you  responsible." 

"  Quite  right,"  answered  Kilgariff.  "  I  hold 
myself  responsible,  and  I  '11  answer  for  my 
254 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

words  in  any  way  and  at  any  time  and  to  any 
extent  that  you  may  desire.  But  meanwhile, 
and  as  your  superior  officer,  I  now  order  you  to 
set  to  work  to  render  that  magazine  safe.  As 
your  superior  officer,  I  shall  assume  authority 
to  direct  your  work  and  to  insist  that  it  shall 
be  done  as  I  command.  Let  your  men  shovel 
away  all  that  remains  of  the  earth  mound  and 
send  your  axe-men  into  the  timber  there  to  cut 
seventy  or  eighty  sticks,  each  twenty-three  feet 
long  and  eight  inches  in  diameter." 

The  captain  showed  signs  of  standing  on  his 
dignity  by  refusing,  but  Kilgariff  promptly 
brought  him  to  terms  by  saying :  — 

"  Whenever  you  want  to  call  me  to  account,  I 
shall  respond  —  I  '11  do  it  in  an  hour  hence,  if 
you  choose.  But  for  the  sake  of  the  lives  of 
some  hundreds  of  men,  I  am  going  to  have  this 
magazine  securely  constructed  within  the  brief 
est  possible  time.  After  that,  I  shall  be  very 
much  at  your  service.  You  may  either  set  your 
men  at  work  in  the  way  I  have  suggested,  or 
you  may  return  to  your  quarters,  in  which  case 
I  shall  assume  command  of  your  men  and  do 
the  work  myself.  If  you  elect  to  return  to  your 
quarters,  I  pledge  you  my  honour  as  an  officer 
255 


EVELYN  BTRD 

that  I  shall  not  make  your  desertion  of  duty  at 
a  critical  moment  the  subject  of  an  additional 
charge  in  the  court-martial  proceedings  that  I 
shall  surely  institute  against  you  to-morrow 
morning." 

Thus  permitted,  Captain  Harbach  retired 
through  the  covered  way,  and  Owen  Kilgariff 
assumed  command  of  the  men  he  had  left  be 
hind  him. 

Within  two  hours,  the  magazine  was  recon 
structed,  and  so  strongly  that  no  danger  re 
mained  of  the  kind  that  had  threatened  the 
lives  of  Owen  Kilgariffs  men. 

When  all  was  done,  Kilgariff  turned  again  to 
Arthur  Brent  and  said:  — 

"  Now  let  us  resume  our  conversation." 

"  But  what  about  this  quarrel  with  Captain 
Harbach?  He  will  surely  challenge  you." 

"  Of  course,  and  I  shall  accept.  Never  mind 
that.  He  may  possibly  shoot  me  through  the 
head  or  heart  or  lungs.  The  chance  of  that  ren 
ders  it  only  the  more  imperative  that  you  and  I 
shall  talk  out  our  talk.  I  have  much  to  say  to 
you  that  must  be  said  before  morning.  Besides, 
I  must  prepare  my  charges  against  Captain 
Harbach.  It  is  a  duty  that  I  owe  to  the  ser- 
256 


A    GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

vice  to  expose  the  arrogant  incapacity  of  such 
men  as  he.  Such  incapacity  imperils  the  lives 
of  better  men,  by  scores  and  hundreds,  every 
day.  If  I  can  do  anything  to  purge  the  ser 
vice  of  such  incapables  —  men  whose  fathers' 
or  friends'  influence  has  secured  commissions 
for  them  to  assume  duties  which  they  are  utterly 
incapable  of  discharging  properly  or  even  with 
tolerable  safety  to  the  lives  of  other  men  —  it 
will  be  a  greatly  good  achievement.  Let  us 
talk  now  of  something  else." 

Then  he  told  Arthur  about  the  papers  that 
the  man  who  called  himself  Campbell  had  in 
trusted  to  his  keeping. 

"The  matter  sorely  embarrasses  me,"  he  ex 
plained.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  ought  to  do. 
Of  course  I  am  in  no  way  bound  by  that  fellow's 
half -spoken,  half-suggested  injunction  not  to 
give  the  papers  to  Evelyn  till  she  attains  the 
age  of  twenty-one.  I  completely  disregard  that. 
But  there  are  other  things  to  be  thought  of. 
My  command  here  on  the  lines  is  losing  from 
twenty  to  thirty  per  cent  of  its  personnel  each 
month.  Nothing  is  more  likely  than  that  I 
shall  turn  up  among  the  '  killed  in  action '  some 
morning.  If  I  keep  the  papers  with  me,  they 
257 


EVELYN  BTRD 

are  liable  to  fall  into  other  and  perhaps  un 
friendly  hands  at  any  moment.  As  I  have  not 
the  remotest  notion  of  what  is  recorded  in  them, 
of  course  I  cannot  even  conjecture  how  much 
of  harm  that  might  work  to  Evelyn.  You  per 
fectly  understand  that  her  welfare,  her  comfort, 
her  feelings,  constitute  the  controlling  considera 
tion  with  me." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  understand  that,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Don't  jest,  if  you  please,"  broke  in  KilgarifF, 
with  a  note  of  offence  in  his  voice. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  answered  Arthur,  with  pro 
found  seriousness,  "  nothing  could  be  farther 
from  my  thought  than  jesting  on  a  subject  so 
serious.  I  beg  you  to  believe  —  " 

"  I  do.  I  believe  you  implicitly.  But  some 
how  this  explosion,  and  poor  Johnny  Garrett's 
needless  death,  and  my  quarrel  with  that  reck 
less  incapable,  Harbach,  have  set  my  nerves  on 
edge,  so  that  I  am  querulous.  Forgive  me,  and 
let  me  go  on.  As  to  these  papers,  I  want  to  do 
that  which  is  best  for  Evelyn  ;  but  I  don't  know 
what  is  best,  and  I  can't  find  out  by  questioning 
my  own  mind.  You  see,  I  not  only  do  not  know 
what  is  in  the  papers,  but  I  do  not  even  know 
what  circumstances  gave  them  birth,  or  what 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

purpose  of  good  or  evil  lies  behind  them,  or 
what  distressing  revelations  they  may  make  for 
her  affliction.  The  cold-blooded  gambler,  swin 
dler,  adventurer,  cheat,  who  gave  the  papers  to 
me  is  —  or  was,  for  I  don't  know  whether  he  is 
now  dead  or  alive  —  capable  of  any  atrocity. 
He  admitted  to  me  that  he  had  cruelly  perse 
cuted  the  girl,  his  daughter.  It  would  not  be 
inconsistent  with  his  character,  I  think,  for  him 
to  send  her  from  his  deathbed  a  bundle  of  pa 
pers  that  should  needlessly  afflict  and  torture 
her.  He  cherished  quite  enough  of  enmity  to 
me,  I  think,  to  make  him  happy  in  the  convic 
tion  that  he  had  made  me  his  unwilling  and  un 
witting  agent  in  inflicting  such  wounds  upon  her 
spirit. 

"  Thus  I  dare  not  give  her  the  papers,  nor 
dare  I  withhold  them,  lest  thereby  I  do  her  a 
wrong.  Counsel  me,  my  friend.  Tell  me  what 
I  should  do  !  " 

"  Consult  Dorothy,"  answered  Arthur.  "  Her 
judgment  in  such  a  case  will  be  immeasurably 
wiser  than  yours  or  mine,  or  both  combined." 

"Thank  you.  That  is  the  best  solution.  I 
wonder  I  did  n't  think  of  it  before.  I  will  act 
upon  it  at  once.  I  '11  send  the  papers  to  Doro- 
259 


EVELYN  BTRD 

thy  by  your  hand,  and  I  '11  ask  you  also  to  bear 
her  a  letter  in  which  I  shall  beg  for  her  judgment. 
That 's  the  end  of  one  of  my  perplexities,  for  the 
time  being  at  least.  Now  let  us  talk  of  another 
thing  that  concerns  me  very  deeply.  I  am  a 
pretty  rich  man,  as  you  know.  I  own  some 
real  estate  in  New  York  City.  That  will  proba 
bly  be  confiscated  when  this  war  comes  to  an 
end,  as  you  and  I  clearly  see  that  it  must  do 
very  soon.  I  own  a  good  many  stocks  and 
bonds  and  other  securities,  which  cannot  be  so 
easily  confiscated,  inasmuch  as  they  are  in  pos 
session  of  my  bankers,  who  are  like  drums  for 
tightness,  and  are  besides  my  very  good  friends. 
In  addition  to  these  things,  the  bulk  of  my  for 
tune  is  invested  in  Europe,  where  it  cannot  be 
confiscated  at  all.  The  securities  are  held  by 
the  Liverpool  branch  of  Frazer,  Trenholm,  and 
Company,  of  Charleston,  for  my  account,  so 
that  they  are  perfectly  safe. 

"  Now  the  only  relatives  I  have  in  the  world, 
so  far  as  I  know,  are  my  brother  and  his  fam 
ily.  I  have  every  reason  for  desiring  that  none 
of  them  shall  ever  get  a  single  cent  from  my  es 
tate.  So  much  on  the  negative  side.  Affirma 
tively,  I  very  earnestly  desire  that  every  dollar 
260 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

I  have  in  the  world  shall  go  at  my  death  to  the 
one  woman  I  ever  loved  —  Evelyn  Byrd. 

"It  may  seem  to  you  a  simple  and  easy  thing 
to  arrange  that,  but  it  is  not  so.  Any  will  that 
I  might  make  cutting  off  my  relatives  from  the 
inheritance  of  my  property  would  be  obstinately 
contested  in  the  courts," 

"But  upon  what  grounds  ?" 

"  Oh,  the  lawyers  can  be  trusted  to  find  rea 
sons  'as  plenty  as  blackberries.'  For  one  thing, 
they  could  insist  that  I  was  a  dead  man  long 
before  the  date  of  my  will." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  when  I  escaped  from  Sing  Sing,  there 
were  two  other  men  with  me.  As  we  swam  out 
into  the  Hudson,  the  guards  opened  a  vigorous 
fire  upon  us.  One  of  my  companions  was  killed 
outright,  his  face  being  badly  mutilated  by  the 
bullets.  The  other  was  wounded  and  recaptured. 
He  positively  identified  the  dead  man's  body  as 
mine.  It  was  buried  in  my  name,  and  my  death 
was  officially  recorded  as  a  fact.  So,  you  see,  I 
am  officially  a  dead  man,  if  ever  my  relatives 
have  occasion  to  prove  me  so.  But  apart  from 
that,  my  estate,  when  I  die,  will  be  a  sufficiently 
large  carcass  to  induce  a  great  gathering  of  the 
261 


EVELYN  BTRD 

buzzards  about  it.  With  half  a  million  dollars 
or  more  to  fight  over,  the  lawyers  may  be  trusted 
to  find  ample  grounds  for  fighting." 

"  It  seems  a  difficult  problem  to  solve,"  said 
Arthur,  meditatively.  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
manage  it." 

"  Such  matters  are  easy  enough  when  one  has 
friends,  as  I  have,  who  may  be  trusted  implicitly. 
I  have  thought  this  matter  out,  and  I  think  I 
know  how  to  handle  the  situation." 

"  Tell  me  your  plan,  if  you  wish." 

"  Of  course  I  wish.  My  first  thought  was  to 
give  everything  I  have  in  the  world  to  Evelyn 
now,  giving  her  deeds  for  the  real  estate  and 
absolute  bills  of  sale  for  the  securities.  But  of 
course  I  could  not  do  that.  I  could  never  gain 
her  consent  to  such  an  arrangement  without  first 
winning  her  love  and  making  her  my  affianced 
bride." 

"  Do  you  think  that  would  be  impossible  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  —  perhaps  so.  At  any  rate, 
it  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  see  why." 

"  I  am  a  convicted  criminal,  you  know  —  a 
fugitive  from  justice." 

"  No.  You  are  officially  dead.  The  courts 
262 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

of  New  York  will  not  hold  a  dead  man  to  be 
a  fugitive  from  justice.  And  morally  you  are 
nothing  of  the  kind.  It  was  not  justice,  but 
infamous  injustice,  that  condemned  you." 

"  However  that  may  be,  I  can  never  ask  Evelyn 
Byrd  to  be  my  wife,  to  share  the  life  of  a  man 
who  might  even  possibly  be  sent  back  to  Sing 
Sing.  I  can  never  ask  her  to  make  of  her  chil 
dren  the  sons  and  daughters  of  a  convicted 
criminal.  I  will  not  do  that.  So  I  have  thought 
out  another  plan.  My  second  thought  was  to 
turn  over  all  I  have  to  you  in  trust  for  Evelyn. 
When  I  am  dead,  she  need  not  refuse  the  gift. 
But  there  again  is  a  difficulty.  When  this  war 
ends  in  the  complete  conquest  of  the  South,  as  it 
soon  must,  political  passion  at  the  North  is  well- 
nigh  certain  to  find  expression  in  acts  of  whole 
sale  confiscation,  directed  against  men  of  wealth 
at  the  South,  and  men  who  have  served  as  offi 
cers  in  our  army.  They  may,  indeed,  include  all 
who  have  served  at  all,  even  as  privates.  At 
any  rate,  you  are  an  officer  of  high  rank,  and 
between  you  and  Dorothy  you  are  one  of  the 
greatest  plantation  owners  in  Virginia.  You 
are  pretty  sure  to  be  included  in  whatever  is 
done  in  this  way. 

263 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  It  will  not  do,  therefore,  to  make  you  my 
trustee  for  Evelyn.  I  must  have  some  non- 
combatant  to  serve  in  that  capacity,  and,  with 
your  permission,  I  am  going  to  ask  Dorothy  to 
accept  the  duty." 

"  You  have  my  permission,  certainly.  But  I 
see  another  danger.  Suppose  anything  should 
happen  to  Dorothy  ?  —  God  forbid  it !  Suppose 
she  should  die  ?  " 

"  I  have  thought  of  all  that,"  answered  Kil- 
gariff,  "and  I  think  I  see  a  way  out.  I  shall 
ask  Dorothy  to  select  some  friend,  some  woman 
whom  she  can  absolutely  trust,  to  serve  with 
her  as  a  joint  trustee,  giving  full  power  to  the 
survivor  to  carry  out  the  trust  in  case  of  the 
death  of  either  of  the  two.  I  have  n't  a  doubt 
she  knows  such  a  woman." 

"She  does  —  two  of  them.  There  is  Edmonia 
Bannister,  one  of  God's  elect  in  character,  and 
there  is  Mrs.  Baillie  Pegram  —  she  who  was 
Agatha  Ronald.  Either  of  them  would  serve 
the  purpose  perfectly." 

"  I  '11  get  Dorothy  to  ask  both  of  them,"  re 
sponded  Kilgariff.  "  Then  all  possible  contin 
gencies  will  be  fully  met  and  provided  for. 

"  Now  for  present  concerns.  If  I  can  make  a 
264 


A    GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

Confederate  taper  burn  for  an  hour,  I  '11  write 
my  letter  to  Dorothy,  to  accompany  the  papers, 
and  to  ask  her  to  serve  me  in  this  matter  of  the 
trusteeship.  I  have  a  very  capable  young  law 
yer  under  my  command  here  as  a  sergeant. 
Early  in  the  morning  I  shall  set  him  to  work 
preparing  the  trust  conveyances.  He  is  a  rapid 
worker,  and  will  have  the  documents  ready  by 
nightfall.  Then  I  '11  send  them  to  Wyanoke  by 
a  courier.  In  the  meanwhile  I  have  Captain 
Harbach  on  my  hands.  I  'm  afraid  I  must  ask 
you  to  act  for  me  in  that  matter.  While  we 
have  been  talking,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
when  I  prefer  my  charges  against  Captain  Har 
bach,  he  will  be  placed  under  arrest.  In  that 
position  he  would  not  be  permitted  to  send  me 
the  hostile  message  he  threatened  to-night.  It 
would  be  extremely  unfair  to  him  to  place  him 
in  such  a  position.  I  want  you  to  write  to  him, 
if  you  will,  as  my  friend.  Say  to  him  that  in 
view  of  his  expressed  desire  to  hold  me  respon 
sible  for  words  spoken  to-night,  and  in  order  to 
give  him  opportunity  to  do  so  without  embar 
rassment,  I  shall  postpone  for  twenty-four  hours, 
or  for  a  longer  time,  if  for  any  reason  he  cannot 
conveniently  act  within  twenty-four  hours,  the 
265 


EVELYN  BTRD 

preferring  of  my  official  charges  against  him. 
Ask  him,  please,  to  advise  you  of  his  wishes  in 
the  matter  in  order  that  I  may  comply  with 
them." 

"  You  are  a  very  cool  hand,  Kilgariff,"  said 
Arthur,  "  and  your  courtesy  to  an  enemy  is 
extreme." 

"  Oh,  courtesy  in  such  a  case  is  a  matter  of 
course.  Let  me  say  to  you,  now,  that  when  I 
meet  Captain  Harbach  on  the  field,  I  shall  fire 
high  in  the  air.  I  have  no  desire  to  kill  him  or 
to  inflict  the  smallest  hurt  upon  him.  I  am 
merely  giving  him  the  opportunity  he  desires  to 
kill  me,  by  way  of  avenging  himself  upon  me 
for  the  severe  criticisms  I  have  made  upon  his 
character,  his  conduct,  and  his  assumption  of 
functions  that  he  is  incapable  of  discharging 
with  tolerable  safety  to  other  men.  Let  me 
make  this  matter  plainer  to  your  mind,  Arthur. 
I  do  not  at  all  believe  in  the  duello.  I  think  it 
barbarous  in  intent  and  usually  ridiculous  in  its 
conduct.  But  I  had  the  best  of  good  reasons 
for  saying  what  I  did  to  Captain  Harbach,  and 
so  I  said  it.  What  I  said  was  exceedingly 
offensive  to  him,  and  the  only  way  he  knows 
of  '  vindicating '  himself  is  by  challenging  me  to 
266 


A   GUN-PIT  CONFERENCE 

a  duel.  It  would  be  a  gross  injustice  on  my 
part  to  refuse  to  meet  him,  and  to  do  an  injus 
tice  is  to  commit  an  immorality.  So,  of  course, 
I  shall  meet  him.  As  I  have  no  desire  to  do 
him  other  harm  than  to  get  him  removed  from 
a  position  which  he  is  incapable  of  filling  with 
safety  to  others  and  benefit  to  the  service,  I 
shall  not  think  of  shooting  at  him.  But  I  shall 
give  him  the  privilege  he  craves  of  shooting  at 
me.  I  really  don't  mind,  you  know,  under  the 
circumstances,  except  that  in  any  case  I  shall 
postpone  his  shooting  at  me  till  I  can  execute 
the  documents  relating  to  my  property." 

"  In  view  of  your  explanation,"  answered 
Arthur,  "  I  must  decline  to  act  as  your  friend 
in  this  matter." 

"But  why?" 

"  Because  I  will  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  a 
murder.  I  detest  duelling,  as  you  do  ;  I  regard 
it  as  a  relic  of  feudalism  which  ought  to  give 
place  to  something  better  in  our  enlightened 
and  law-governed  time.  But  while  it  lasts,  I 
am  forced  to  consent  to  it,  however  unwillingly. 
I  recognise  the  fact  that  the  right  of  the  individ 
ual  to  make  private  war  on  his  own  account  is 
the  only  basis  on  which  nations  can  logically 
267 


EVELYN  BTRD 

or  even  sanely  claim  the  right  to  make  public 
war.  Nations  are  only  aggregations  of  individ 
uals,  and  their  rights  are  only  the  sum  of  the 
rights  previously  possessed  by  the  individuals 
composing  them.  But  while  I  feel  in  that  way 
about  duelling,  I  can  have  no  part  in  a  contest 
in  which  I  know  in  advance  that  one  of  the  con 
testants  is  going  to  shoot  to  kill,  while  the  other 
is  merely  standing  up  to  be  shot  at  and  does  not 
himself  intend  to  make  war  at  all." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Kilgariff.  "I'll  get 
some  one  else  to  send  the  letter." 

He  summoned  an  orderly  and  directed  him  to 
go  to  a  neighbouring  camp  and  ask  an  officer 
there  to  call  upon  Lieutenant-colonel  Kilgariff, 
"  concerning  a  purely  personal  matter,  and  not 
at  all  with  reference  to  any  matter  of  service." 

The  officer,  a  fiery  little  fellow,  responded  at 
once  to  the  summons,  and  he  promptly  wrote  — 
spelling  it  very  badly  —  the  message  which  Kil 
gariff  had  asked  Arthur  to  send. 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  messenger  who  had 
borne  the  note  returned  with  it  unopened.  For 
explanation,  he  said  :  — 

"  Captain  Harbach  had  his  head  blown  off  in 
the  trenches  just  before  daylight  this  morning." 
268 


XVIII 

EVELYN'S    REVELATION 

IT  was  during  Arthur's  absence  at  Peters 
burg  that  Evelyn  began  talking  with  Doro 
thy  about  herself. 

"It  isn't  nice,"  she  said,  as  the  two  sat  to 
gether  in  the  porch  one  day,  "  for  me  to  have 
reserves  and  secrets  with  you,  Dorothy." 

"  But  why  not  ?  Every  one  is  entitled  to  have 
reserves.  Why  should  not  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  because  —  well,  things  are  different 
with  me.  You  are  good  to  me  —  nobody  was 
ever  so  good  to  me.  I  am  living  here,  and  lov 
ing  you  and  letting  you  love  me,  and  all  the 
time  you  know  nothing  at  all  about  me.  It 
isn't  fair.  I  hate  unfairness." 

"  So  do  I,"  answered  Dorothy.  "  But  this 
is  n't  unfair.  I  never  asked  you  to  tell  me  any 
thing  about  yourself." 

269 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"That's  the  worst  of  it.  That's  what  makes 
it  so  mean  and  ugly  and  unfair  for  me  to  go  on 
in  this  way.  Why  should  you  be  so  good  to  me 
when  you  don't  know  anything  about  me  ? " 

"  Why,  because,  although  I  do  not  know  your 
history,  I  know  you.  If  it  is  painful  for  you  to 
tell  me  about  yourself  — 

"It  wouldn't  be  painful,"  the  girl  answered, 
with  an  absent,  meditative  look  in  her  eyes. 
But  she  added  nothing  to  the  sentence.  She 
merely  caressed  Dorothy's  hand.  After  a  little 
silence,  she  suddenly  asked  :  — 

"What's  a  'parole,'  Dorothy?" 

Dorothy  explained,  but  the  explanation  did 
not  seem  to  satisfy. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  How  much  does  it 
include  ?  How  long  does  it  last  ?  " 

Dorothy  again  explained.  Then  Evelyn 
said :  — 

"  It  was  a  parole  I  took.  I  don't  know  what 
or  how  much  it  bound  me  not  to  tell.  I  wish  I 
could  make  that  out." 

"  If  you  could  tell  me  something  about  the 

circumstances,"    answered    the    older    woman, 

"  perhaps   I  could  help  you  to  find  out.     But 

you  mustn't  tell  me  anything  unless  you  wish." 

270 


EFELTN'S  REVELATION 

"  I  should  like  to  tell  you  everything.  You 
see,  they  were  trying  to  send  me  South,  through 
the  lines  somehow.  They  said  I  was  to  be  sent 
to  some  relatives  —  but  I  reckon  that  was  n't 
true.  Anyhow,  they  wanted  to  send  me  through 
the  lines,  and  they  had  to  get  permission.  So 
they  took  me  to  a  military  man  of  some  sort, 
and  he  took  my  parole.  I  had  to  swear  not  to 
tell  anything  to  the  enemy,  and  after  I  had 
sworn  that  I  wouldn't,  he  looked  very  sternly 
at  me  and  told  me  I  must  n't  forget  that  I  had 
taken  an  oath  not  to  tell  anything  I  knew." 

Dorothy  answered  without  hesitation  that  the 
parole  referred  only  to  military  matters,  and  not 
at  all  to  things  that  related  only  to  the  girl  her 
self  and  her  life. 

"  But,  Dorothy,  I  didn't  know  anything  about 
military  affairs  —  how  could  I  ?  So  I  reckon 
they  couldn't  have  meant  that." 

"  They  could  not  know  what  information  you 
might  have,  or  what  messages  some  one  might 
send  through  you.  You  may  be  entirely  sure, 
dear,  that  your  oath  meant  nothing  in  the  world 
beyond  that.  The  military  authorities  at  the 
North  care  nothing  about  your  private  affairs  or 
how  much  you  may  talk  of  them.  Still,  you  are 
271 


EVELYN  BTRD 

not  to  tell  anything  that  you  have  doubts  about. 
You  are  not  to  wound  your  own  conscience.  I 
sometimes  think  our  own  consciences  are  all 
there  is  of  Judgment  Day.  You  are  always  to 
remember  that  Arthur  and  I  are  perfectly  satis 
fied  to  take  you  for  what  you  are,  asking  no 
questions  as  to  the  rest.  We  are  vain  enough 
to  think  ourselves  capable  of  forming  our  own 
judgment  concerning  the  character  of  a  girl  like 
you.  We  are  not  afraid  of  making  any  mistake 
about  that." 

Evelyn  did  not  reply.  She  sat  still,  continu 
ing  to  caress  Dorothy's  hand.  She  was  think 
ing  in  some  troubled  fashion,  and  Dorothy  was 
wise  enough  to  let  her  go  on  thinking  without 
interruption. 

After  a  while  the  girl  suddenly  dropped  the 
hand,  arose,  and  went  out  upon  the  lawn.  Her 
mare  was  grazing  there,  and  Evelyn  called  the 
animal  to  her.  Leaping  upon  the  unsaddled 
and  unbridled  mare,  she  started  off  at  a  gallop. 
Presently  she  slipped  off  her  low  shoes,  and  in 
her  stocking  feet  stood  erect  upon  the  galloping 
animal's  back.  With  low,  almost  muttered  com 
mands  she  directed  the  mare's  course,  making 
her  leap  a  fence  twice,  while  her  rider  some- 
272 


EVELYN'S  REVELATION 

times  stood  erect,  sometimes  knelt,  and  some 
times  sat  for  a  moment,  only  to  rise  again  with 
as  great  apparent  ease  as  if  she  had  been  occu 
pying  a  chair. 

Finally  she  brought  her  steed  to  a  halt,  leaped 
nimbly  to  the  ground,  and  resumed  her  slippers. 
She  walked  rapidly  back  to  the  porch,  and,  with 
a  look  of  positively  painful  earnestness  in  her 
face,  demanded :  — 

"  Does  that  make  a  difference  ?  Does  it  alter 
your  opinion  ?  Do  you  still  believe  in  me  ?  " 

Her  tone  was  so  eager,  so  intense,  that  it  seemed 
almost  angry.  Dorothy  only  answered  :  — 

"It  makes  no  difference." 

"  You  know  what  that  means  ?  You  guess 
where  I  learned  to  do  that?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  still  you  do  not  cast  me  out  ?  Still  you 
do  not  command  me  to  go  away  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.     Why  should  I  ?  " 

"  But  why  not  ?  Most  women  of  your  class 
and  in  your  position  would  send  me  away." 

"  I  am  perhaps  not  like  most  women  of  my 

class  and  condition.     At  any  rate,  as  I  told  you 

a  while  ago,  I  know  you,  I  trust  you,  I  believe 

in  you.     You  are  you.    What  else  matters?    Let 

273 


EVELYN  BTRD 

me  tell  you  a  little  life-story.  My  mother  was 
a  musician,  who  performed  in  public.  Every 
body  about  here  scorned  her  for  that.  But  she 
was  the  superior  of  all  of  them.  She  was  a 
woman  of  genius  and  strong  character.  She 
hated  shams  and  conventionalities,  and  she  was 
a  good  woman.  When  the  war  came,  she  set 
to  work  nursing  the  wounded.  She  was  shot  to 
death  a  little  while  ago,  and  the  soldiers  loved 
her  so  that  they  rolled  a  great  boulder  over  her 
grave  and  carved  a  loving  inscription  upon  it 
with  their  own  hands.  Many  of  them  were 
killed  in  doing  that ;  but  whenever  one  fell, 
another  took  his  place.  Do  you  think,  Evelyn, 
that  I,  her  daughter,  could  ever  scorn  a  good 
woman  like  you,  merely  because  she  was  or  had 
been  an  actor  in  a  show  ?  I  tell  you,  Evelyn 
Byrd,  I  know  you,  and  that  is  quite  enough 
for  me." 

"  Is  it  enough  for  Cousin  Arthur  ? " 

"  Yes,  assuredly." 

"  And  for  —  well,  for  others  ?  " 

"  If  you  mean  Kilgariff,  yes.  If  you  mean 
the  conventional  people,  no.  So  you  had  better 
never  say  anything  about  it  to  them." 

At  Dorothy's  mention  of  Kilgariff's  name, 
274 


EVELYN'S  REVELATION 

Evelyn  started  as  if  shocked.  But  quickly 
recovering  herself,  she  said  with  passion  in  her 
tones  :  — 

"  You  are  the  very  best  woman  in  the  world, 
Dorothy.  I  shall  not  long  have  any  secrets 
from  you." 

The  girl's  agitation  was  ungovernable.  Emo 
tionally  she  had  passed  through  a  greater  crisis 
than  she  had  ever  known  before,  and  her  nerves 
were  badly  shaken.  Without  trying  to  utter  the 
words  that  would  not  rise  to  her  quivering  lips, 
she  took  refuge  in  the  laboratory,  where  she  set 
to  work  with  the  impatience  of  one  who  must 
open  a  safety  valve  of  some  kind,  or  suffer 
collapse.  Most  women  of  her  age,  similarly 
agitated,  would  have  gone  to  their  chambers 
instead,  and  vented  their  feelings  in  paroxysms 
of  weeping.  Evelyn  Byrd  was  not  given  to 
tears.  Perhaps  bitter  experience  had  conquered 
that  feminine  tendency  in  her,  though  very  cer 
tainly  it  had  not  robbed  her  of  her  intense 
femininity  in  any  other  way. 

When  Dorothy  joined  her  in  the  laboratory 
an  hour  later,  the  girl  was  engaged  in  an  opera 
tion  so  delicate  that  the  tremor  of  a  finger, 
the  jarring  of  a  sharply  closed  door,  or  even 
275 


EVELYN  BTRD 

a  sudden  breath  of  air  would  have  ruined  the 
work. 

"  Step  lightly,  please,"  was  all  that  she  said. 
Dorothy  saw  that  the  girl  had  completely  mas 
tered  herself. 

And  Dorothy  admired  and  rejoiced. 


276 


XIX 

DOROTHY'S    DECISION 

KILGARIFF  had  not  long  to  wait  for 
Dorothy's  answer,  nor  was  the  reply 
an  uncertain  one.  It  was  not  Doro 
thy's  habit  to  be  uncertain  of  her  own  mind, 
especially  where  any  question  of  right  and 
wrong  was  involved.  She  never  hesitated  to 
do  or  advise  the  right  as  she  saw  it,  and  she 
never  on  any  account  juggled  with  the  truth  or 
avoided  it. 

So  far  as  the  trusteeship  was  concerned,  she 
accepted  the  appointment  for  herself  and  also 
for  Edmonia  Bannister  and  Agatha  Pegram, 
both  of  whom  were  within  an  hour's  ride  of 
Wyanoke,  as  Agatha  was  staying  for  a  time  at 
Edmonia's  home,  Branton.  Dorothy  had  gone 
to  them  at  once  on  receipt  of  Kilgariff's  letter, 
and  both  had  consented  to  accept  the  trust. 

That  matter  out  of  the  way,  Dorothy  took  up 
the  other  with  that  directness  of  mind  which 
277 


EVELYN  BTRD 

made  her  always  clear-sighted  and  well-nigh 
unerring  in  judgment,  at  least  where  questions 
of  conduct  were  concerned. 

I  am  rather  surprised,  Kilgariff  [she  wrote],  and  not 
quite  pleased  with  you.  Can  you  not  see  that  you 
have  no  more  right  to  let  me  read  Evelyn's  papers 
than  to  read  them  yourself  ?  They  are  hers  to  do  with 
as  she  pleases,  and  neither  you  nor  I  may  so  much  as 
read  a  line  of  them  without  her  voluntary  consent. 

Neither,  I  think,  have  you  any  right  to  withhold 
them  from  her.  They  are  her  property,  and  you  must 
give  them  to  her,  as  you  would  her  purse,  had  it  come 
into  your  possession.  The  fact  that  these  papers  may 
hurt  her  feelings  in  the  reading  has  no  bearing  what 
ever  on  the  case.  It  is  not  your  function  to  protect 
her  against  unpleasantness  by  withholding  from  her 
anything  to  which  she  has  a  right,  whether  it  be 
property  or  information  or  anything  else.  You  are  not 
her  father,  or  her  brother,  or  her  husband,  or  even  a 
man  affianced  to  her  —  this  last  mainly  by  your  own 
fault,  I  think.  It  is  just  like  a  man  to  think  that  he 
has  a  right  to  wrong  a  woman  by  way  of  protecting 
her  and  sparing  her  feelings. 

Let  me  tell  you  that  Evelyn  Byrd  stands  in  need 
of  no  such  protection.  Little  as  I  know  of  her  life- 
experiences,  that  little  is  far  more  than  you  know. 
278 


DOROTHT'S  DECISION 

She  has  suffered ;  she  has  known  wrong  and  oppres 
sion  ;  she  has  had  to  work  out  for  herself  even  the 
fundamental  principles  of  morality  in  conduct.  Her 
experience  has  been  such  that  it  has  made  her  wonder 
fully  strong,  especially  in  the  matter  of  endurance. 
She  is  tender,  loving,  sensitive  —  yes,  exquisitely  sensi 
tive  —  but  she  has  a  self-control  which  amounts  to 
stoicism  —  to  positive  heroism,  I  should  say,  if  that 
word  were  not  a  badly  overworked  one. 

Nevertheless,  I  have  some  fear  that  these  papers 
may  contain  things  that  it  will  be  very  painful  for  her 
to  read,  and  I  strongly  sympathise  with  your  desire 
to  spare  her.  I  condemn  only  the  method  you  have 
wished  to  adopt.  I  must  not  examine  the  papers.  I 
have  no  right,  and  you  can  give  me  no  right,  to  do 
that.  Still  less  must  I  think  of  deciding  whether  they 
are  to  be  given  to  her  or  withheld.  That  is  a  thing 
that  decides  itself.  They  are  absolutely  hers.  You 
must  yourself  place  them  in  her  hands.  In  doing  so, 
you  can  make  whatever  explanation  or  suggestions 
you  please,  and  she  can  act  upon  your  suggestions  or 
disregard  them,  as  shall  seem  best  to  her. 

To  do  this  thing  properly,  you  must  come  to 
Wyanoke.  There  seems  to  be  no  crisis  impending  at 
Petersburg  just  now,  and  you  can  easily  get  leave  for 
two  or  three  days,  particularly  as  the  distance  between 
Wyanoke  and  Petersburg  is  so  small.  In  case  of  need, 
279 


EVELTN  BTRD 

you  can  return  to  your  post  quickly.  A  good  horse 
would  make  the  journey  in  a  very  brief  time.  If 
pressed,  he  could  cover  it  in  two  hours,  or  three  at 
most.  So  come  to  Wyanoke  with  as  little  delay  as 
may  be,  and  do  your  duty  bravely. 

Kilgariff  had  no  need  to  apply  for  a  leave  of 
absence.  The  wound  in  his  neck  had  been  be 
having  badly  for  ten  days  past,  and  it  was  now 
very  angry  indeed.  Day  by  day  a  field-surgeon 
had  treated  it,  to  no  effect.  So  far  from  grow 
ing  better,  it  had  grown  steadily  worse. 

Under  the  night-and-day  strain  of  his  ceaseless 
war  work,  Kilgariff  had  grown  emaciated,  and 
so  far  enfeebled  as  to  add  greatly  to  the  danger 
threatened  by  the  wound's  condition.  On  the 
morning  of  the  day  which  brought  him  Doro 
thy's  letter,  the  surgeon  had  found  his  condition 
alarming,  and  had  said  to  him :  — 

"  Colonel,  I  have  before  advised  you  to  go  to 
a  hospital  and  have  this  wound  treated.  Now  I 
must  use  my  authority  as  your  medical  officer 
and  order  you  to  go  at  once.  If  I  did  not  com 
pel  that,  the  service  would  very  soon  lose  a 
valuable  officer." 

"  Must  it  be  a  hospital,  Doctor  ? "  asked  Kil 
gariff.  "May  I  not  run  up  to  Wyanoke,  in- 
280 


DOROTHT'S    DECISION 

stead,  and  get  my  friend  Doctor  Brent  to  treat 
me?" 

"  Capital !  Nothing  could  be  better.  Be 
sides,  the  hospitals  are  full  to  overflowing,  and 
you  'd  get  scant  attention  in  most  of  them.  Go 
to  Wyanoke  by  all  means,  but  go  at  once.  I  '11 
give  you  a  written  order  to  go,  and  you  can 
make  it  the  basis  of  your  application  for  sick 
leave.  Act  at  once,  and  I  '11  go  myself  to  head 
quarters  to  impress  everybody  there  with  the 
urgency  of  the  case  and  especially  the  necessity 
for  promptitude.  You  ought  to  have  your 
leave  granted  by  to-morrow  morning." 

It  was  granted  in  fact  earlier  than  that,  so 
that  before  nightfall  Kilgariff  set  out  on  a 
horse  purchased  from  an  officer  of  his  acquaint 
ance,  a  horse  lean  almost  to  emaciation,  but 
strong,  wiry,  and  full  of  spirit  still.  He  was 
an  animal  in  which  blood  did  indeed  "tell,"  a 
grandson  of  that  most  enduring  of  racers,  Red 
Eye. 

"  Give  a  good  account  of  yourself,  old  fel 
low,"  said  Kilgariff  to  the  animal,  caressingly, 
"  and  I  promise  you  better  rations  at  Wyanoke 
than  you  have  had  for  two  months  past." 

Whether  the  horse  understood  the  promise 
281 


EVELYN  BTRD 

or  not,  he  acted  as  if  he  did,  and  with  a 
long,  swinging  stride,  left  miles  behind  him 
rapidly. 

It  was  a  little  past  midnight  when  the  well- 
nigh  exhausted  officer  reached  the  hospitable 
plantation ;  but  before  going  to  the  house,  he 
aroused  the  negro  who  slept  on  guard  at  the 
stables,  and  himself  remained  there  till  the  half- 
sleeping  serving-man  had  thoroughly  groomed 
the  animal  and  placed  an  abundance  of  corn 
and  fodder  in  his  manger  and  rack. 

Then  the  way-worn  traveller  went  to  the 
house,  entered  by  the  never  closed  front  door, 
and  made  his  way  to  a  bedroom,  without  wak 
ing  any  member  of  the  family. 


282 


XX 

A    MAN,    A   MAID,    AND   A   HORSE 

'HEN  Evelyn  went  to  the  stables  in 
the  early  morning,  and  found  a 
strange  horse  there,  she  could  not 
learn  how  he  came  to  be  there,  or  who  had 
brought  him.  The  negro  man  who  had  rubbed 
down  the  animal  under  Kilgariffs  supervision 
during  the  night  had  already  gone  to  the  field, 
and  the  stable  boy  who  was  now  in  attendance 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter. 

The  horse  gently  whinnied  a  welcome  as  the 
girl  entered,  and  his  appearance  interested  her. 
She  bade  the  stable  boy  lead  him  out,  so  that 
she  might  look  him  over,  and  his  symmetry  and 
muscularity  impressed  her  mightily. 

"  Poor  beastie !  "  she  exclaimed,  upon  seeing 
his  lean  condition,  "  they  have  treated  you  very 
badly.  You  haven't  had  enough  to  eat  in  a 
month,  and  you  've  been  worked  very  hard  at 
that.  But  you  are  strong  and  brave  and  good- 
283 


EVELYN  BTRD 

natured  still,  just  as  our  poor,  half-starved  sol 
diers  are.  You  must  be  a  soldier's  horse. 
Anyhow,  you  shall  have  a  good  breakfast. 
Here,  Ben,  take  this  splendid  fellow  back  to 
his  stall  and  give  him  ten  ears  of  corn.  Rub 
him  down  well,  and  when  he  has  finished  eat 
ing,  turn  him  into  the  clover  field  to  graze. 
Poor  fellow  !  I  hope  you  're  going  to  stay  with 
us  long  enough  to  get  sleek  and  strong  again." 

As  was  always  the  case  when  Evelyn  caressed 
an  animal,  the  horse  seemed  to  understand  and 
to  respond.  He  held  out  his  head  for  a  caress, 
and  poked  his  nose  under  her  arm  as  if  asking 
to  be  hugged.  Finally  he  lifted  one  of  his 
hoofs  and  held  it  out.  The  girl  grasped  the 
pastern,  saying :  — 

"  So  you  've  been  taught  to  shake  hands,  have 
you  ?  Well,  you  shall  show  off  your  accom 
plishments  as  freely  as  you  please.  How  do 
you  do,  sir  ?  I  hope  you  have  slept  well !  Now 
Ben  has  your  breakfast  ready,  so  I  '11  excuse 
you,  and  after  breakfast  you  shall  have  a  stroll 
in  a  beautiful  clover  lot !  " 

As  she  finished  her  playful  little  speech  and 
turned   her  head,  she  was  startled  to  see  Kil- 
gariff  standing  near,  looking  and  listening. 
284 


A   MAN,   A   MAW,  AND   A   HORSE 

"Oh,  Mr.  Kilgariff!"  she  exclaimed,  in  em 
barrassment,  "  I  did  n't  know  you  were  here. 
You  must  think  me  a  silly  girl  to  talk  in  that 
way  with  a  horse." 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  answered ;  "  the  horse  seemed 
to  like  your  caressing,  and  as  for  me,  I  enjoyed 
seeing  it  more  than  I  can  say." 

"  Then  you  wanted  to  laugh  at  me." 

"  By  no  means.  I  was  only  admiring  the 
gentleness  and  kindliness  of  your  winning  ways. 
The  thought  that  was  uppermost  in  my  mind 
was  that  I  no  longer  wondered  at  the  fascina 
tion  you  seem  to  exercise  over  animals.  Your 
manner  with  them  is  such,  and  your  voice  is 
such,  that  they  cannot  help  loving  you.  Even 
a  man  would  be  helpless  if  you  treated  him  so." 

"Oh,  but  I  could  never  do  that  —  at  least, 
well — I  mean  I  could — "  There  the  speech 
broke  down,  simply  because  the  girl,  now  flush 
ing  crimson,  knew  not  how  to  finish  it.  The 
thought  that  had  suddenly  come  into  her  mind 
she  would  not  utter,  and  she  could  think  of  no 
other  that  she  might  substitute  for  it. 

But  her  flushed  face  and  embarrassment  told 
Kilgariff  something  that  the  girl  herself  did  not 
yet  know  —  something  that  sent  a  thrill  of  glad- 
285 


EVELYN  BTRD 

ness  through  him  in  the  first  moment,  but  filled 
him  in  the  next  with  regretful  apprehension. 
He  saw  at  once  that  that  had  happened  which 
he  had  intended  should  never  happen.  Uncon 
sciously,  or  at  least  subconsciously,  Evelyn  Byrd 
had  come  to  think  of  him  —  or,  more  strictly 
speaking,  to  feel  toward  him  without  thinking 
—  in  a  way  that  signified  something  more  than 
friendship,  something  quite  unrecognised  by  her 
self.  Instantly  the  questions  arose  in  his  mind  : 
"What  shall  I  do?  Is  it  too  late  to  prevent 
this  mischief,  if  I  go  away  at  once  ?  If  not,  how 
shall  I  avoid  a  further  wrong  ?  Shall  I  go  away, 
leaving  her  to  work  out  her  own  salvation  as 
best  she  can  ?  Or  shall  I  abandon  my  purpose 
and  suffer  myself  to  win  her  love  completely  ? 
And  in  that  case  how  shall  I  ever  atone  to  her 
for  the  wrong  I  do  her  ?  I  must  in  that  case 
deal  honestly  and  truthfully  with  her,  telling  her 
all  about  myself,  so  that  she  may  know  the 
worst.  Perhaps  then  she  will  be  repelled  and 
no  longer  feel  even  friendship  for  a  man 
living  under  such  disgrace  as  mine.  It  will 
be  painful  for  me  to  do  that,  but  I  must  not 
consider  my  own  feelings.  It  is  my  duty  to 
face  these  circumstances  in  the  same  spirit  in 
286 


A  MAN,   A  MAID,  AND   A   HORSE 

which  I  must  face  the  dangers  and  hardships 
of  war." 

All  this  flashed  through  his  mind  in  an  in 
stant,  but,  without  working  out  the  problem  to 
a  conclusion,  he  set  himself  to  relieve  the  evi 
dent  embarrassment  of  the  girl  —  an  embarrass 
ment  caused  chiefly  by  her  consciousness  that 
she  had  felt  embarrassment  and  shown  it.  He 
resolutely  controlled  himself  in  voice  and  man 
ner  and  turned  the  conversation  into  less  dan 
gerous  channels. 

"You  were  startled  at  seeing  me,"  he  said, 
"  because  you  did  not  know  I  was  here.  I 
came  '  like  a  thief  in  the  night.'  I  got  here 
about  midnight,  after  a  hard  ride  from  Peters 
burg.  I  saw  the  horse  groomed  and  fed,  and 
then  went  to  the  house  and  crept  softly  up  the 
stairs  to  the  room  I  occupied  when  I  was  at 
Wyanoke  before.  I  came  to  let  Arthur  have 
a  look  at  my  wound  —  ' 

"  Oh,  are  you  wounded  again  ?  "  interrupted 
the  girl,  with  a  pained  eagerness  over  which  a 
moment  later  she  again  flushed  in  shamed  em 
barrassment. 

"  Oh,  no.  It  is  only  that  the  old  wound  has 
been  behaving  badly,  like  a  petted  child,  because 
287 


EVELYN  BTRD 

it  has  been  neglected.  But  tell  me,"  he  quickly 
added,  in  order  to  turn  the  conversation  away 
from  personal  themes,  "  tell  me  how  the  quinine 
experiments  get  on.  I  'm  deeply  interested  in 
them,  particularly  the  one  with  dog  fennel. 
Does  it  yield  results  ?  " 

Evelyn  was  glad  to  have  the  subject  thus 
changed,  and  she  went  eagerly  into  particulars 
about  the  laboratory  work,  talking  rapidly,  as 
one  is  apt  to  do  who  talks  to  occupy  time  and  to 
shut  off  all  reference  to  the  thing  really  in  mind. 

Kilgariff  s  half  of  the  conversation  was  of  like 
kind,  and  it  was  additionally  distracted  from  its 
ostensible  purpose  by  the  fact  that  he  was  all 
the  time  trying  to  work  out  in  his  own  mind  the 
problem  presented  by  his  discovery,  and  to  de 
termine  what  course  he  should  pursue  under 
the  embarrassing  circumstances.  All  the  while, 
the  pair  were  slowly  walking  toward  the  house. 
As  they  neared  it,  a  clock  was  heard  within, 
striking  six.  It  reminded  Evelyn  of  something. 

"It  is  six  o'clock,"  she  said,  "and  I  must  be 
off  to  the  hospital  camp  to  see  how  my  wounded 
soldiers  have  got  through  the  night.  I  make 
my  first  visit  soon  in  the  morning  now,  and 
Dorothy  and  I  go  together  later." 
288 


A   MAN,   A  MAID,  AND   A   HORSE 

Turning  to  a  negro  boy,  she  bade  him  go  to 
the  stables  and  bring  her  mare. 

Now  it  was  very  plainly  KilgarifF s  duty  to 
welcome  this  interruption,  which  offered  him 
three  hours  before  the  nine  o'clock  breakfast 
in  which  to  think  out  his  problem  and  decide 
upon  his  course  of  action.  But  a  momentary 
impulse  got  the  better  of  his  discretion,  so  he 
said :  — 

"  I  will  ride  over  there  with  you,  if  I  may." 

The  girl  was  mistress  of  herself  by  this  time, 
so  she  said  :  — 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish.  I  shall  be  glad  of 
your  escort,  if  you  are  strong  enough  to  ride  a 
mile." 

She  said  it  politely,  but  with  a  tone  of  cool 
indifference  which  led  Kilgariff  to  wish  he  had 
not  asked  the  privilege.  Then,  calling  to  the 
negro  boy,  who  had  already  started  on  his 
errand,  she  bade  him  :  — 

"  Bring  a  horse  for  Colonel  Kilgariff ;  not  his 
own,  but  some  other."  This  was  the  first  time 
Evelyn  had  ever  called  Kilgariff  by  any  military 
title.  "  You  see,  Colonel,  your  splendid  animal 
has  been  badly  overworked  and  underfed.  I 
have  promised  him  a  restful  morning  in  a 
289 


clover  field,  and  it  would  be  too  bad  to  disap 
point  him,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly.  Thank  you  for  thinking  of 
that.  How  completely  you  seem  to  have 
schooled  yourself  to  think  of  dumb  animals  as 
if  they  were  human  beings!  You  even  assume 
—  playfully,  of  course  —  that  the  big  sorrel 
understood  your  promise  about  the  clover 
field." 

"  Why  should  he  not  ?  Dumb  animals  under 
stand  a  great  deal  more  than  people  think. 
Your  sorrel  understood,  at  any  rate,  that  I  re 
garded  him  with  affection  and  pity.  That  in 
itself  was  to  him  a  promise  of  good  treatment, 
and  just  now  good  treatment  means  to  him  rest 
in  a  clover  field.  So,  while  he  may  not  have 
understood  the  exact  meaning  of  the  words  I 
used,  he  understood  my  promise.  I  am  not  so 
sure  even  about  the  words.  Animals  under 
stand  our  words  oftener  than  we  think." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  Would  you  mind  giv 
ing  me  an  illustration  of  your  thought  ?  " 

"  Oh,  illustrations  are  plenty.  But  here  are 
the  horses.  Let  us  mount  and  be  off.  We  can 
continue  our  talk  as  we  ride.  Are  you  really 
strong  enough  ? " 

290 


A   MAN,   A   MAID,  AND   A   HORSE 

The  man  answered  that  he  was,  and  the  two 
set  off. 

When  the  horses  had  finished  their  first  morn 
ing  dash,  Evelyn  cried,  "Walk,"  to  them  and 
they  instantly  slowed  down  to  the  indicated 
gait. 

"  There  !  "  said  the  girl.  "  That 's  an  illus 
tration.  The  horses  perfectly  understood  what 
I  meant  when  I  bade  them  walk.  I  am  told 
that  cavalry  horses  understand  every  word  of 
command,  and  that,  even  when  riderless,  they 
sometimes  join  in  the  evolutions  and  make  no 
mistakes." 

"  That  is  true,"  answered  her  companion. 
"  I  have  seen  them  do  it  often.  Both  in  the 
cavalry  and  in  the  artillery  we  depend  far  more 
upon  the  horses'  knowledge  of  the  evolutions 
and  the  words  of  command,  than  upon  that  of 
the  men.  They  learn  tactics  more  readily  than 
the  men  do,  and,  having  once  learned,  they 
never  make  a  mistake,  while  men  often  do." 

"  How  then  can  you  doubt  that  horses  under 
stand  words  ? " 

"They  understand  words  of  command,  but — " 

"Yes?     Well?     'But 'what?" 

"  I  really  don't  know.  The  thought  is  so 
291 


EVELYN  BTRD 

new  to  me  that  it  seemed  for  the  moment  a 
misinterpretation  of  the  facts  —  that  there  must 
be  some  other  explanation." 

"But  what  other  explanation  can  there  be?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Indeed,  I  begin  to  see  that 
there  is  no  other  possible.  Animals  certainly 
do  understand  some  words.  That  is  a  fact,  as 
you  have  shown  me,  and  one  already  within  my 
own  knowledge.  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
they  understand  many  more  than  we  are  accus 
tomed  to  think.  I  wish  you  would  write  that 
book  about  them." 

"  I  am  writing  it,"  she  answered ;  "  but  I 
don't  think  I  '11  ever  let  anybody  see  it  —  at 
any  rate,  not  now  —  not  for  a  long  time  to  come 
—  maybe  not  for  ever." 

As  she  ended,  the  pair  reached  the  invalids' 
camp,  and  the  wounded  men  gave  Evelyn  a 
greeting  that  astonished  Kilgariff  quite  as  much 
as  it  pleased  him. 

"The  little  lady!  The  little  lady!"  they 
shouted,  while  those  of  them  who  could  walk 
eagerly  gathered  about  her,  with  welcome  in 
their  eyes  and  voices. 

She  briefly  introduced  Kilgariff,  and  together 
the  two  went  the  rounds  of  those  patients  who 
292 


A   MAN,   A   MAID,  AND   A   HORSE 

were  still  unable  to  sit  up.  There  were  few  of 
these,  but  they  must  be  the  first  attended  to. 
After  that,  Evelyn  closely  questioned  each  of 
the  others  concerning  the  condition  of  his 
wounds,  his  sleep,  his  digestion,  and  everything 
else  that  Arthur  might  wish  to  learn  in  prepara 
tion  for  his  own  rounds  after  breakfast  Kil- 
gariff  was  struck  with  the  readiness  Evelyn 
manifested  in  calling  each  of  the  men  by  his 
name,  and  with  the  minuteness  of  her  knowledge 
of  the  special  condition  and  the  needs  of  each. 

"  How  do  you  remember  it  all  so  minutely  ?  " 
he  asked,  as  they  walked  together  from  one  side 
of  the  camp  to  the  other. 

"Why,  it  is  my  duty  to  remember,"  she 
replied,  in  a  surprised  tone,  as  if  that  settled 
the  whole  matter.  And  in  a  woman  of  her 
character,  it  did. 


293 


XXI 

EVELYN  LIFTS  A  CORNER  OF  THE  CURTAIN 

DURING  the  return  ride,  Kilgariff  care 
fully  avoided  all  reference  to  the  real 
purpose  of  his  visit  to  Wyanoke.  He 
had  come  to  dread  that  subject,  and  in  his 
present  unsettled  state  of  mind  he  feared  it  also. 
It  might  at  any  moment  bring  on  an  emotional 
crisis,  and  prompt  him  to  do  or  say  things  that 
must  afterward  cause  regret.  He  wished  to 
think  the  matter  out  —  the  matter  of  his  future 
relations  with  this  girl — and  to  determine  finally 
the  course  of  conduct  which  this  morning's  dis 
covery  might  require  of  him. 

He  ought  to  have  seized  upon  the  opportunity 
for  this  that  he  had  so  recklessly  thrown  away. 
He  ought  to  have  let  Evelyn  go  to  the  invalid 
camp  alone,  he  remaining  behind  to  think.  But 
he  had  missed  that  opportunity,  and  no  other  was 
likely  to  come  to  him.  Certainly  no  other  so  good 
could  come.  He  must  get  through  the  matter 
294 


EVELYN  LIFTS   THE   CURTAIN 

of  the  papers  on  this  day,  not  only  because  the 
chances  of  war  might  compel  him  to  return  to 
his  post  on  the  morrow,  but  because  he  might 
very  probably  decide  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
take  himself  out  of  this  girl's  life,  and,  if  that 
was  to  be,  the  sooner  he  should  quit  the  house 
that  held  her  the  better. 

Both  Arthur  and  Dorothy  were  present  to 
welcome  him  when  he  and  Evelyn  returned  to 
the  house,  so  that  there  was  no  chance  then 
to  do  his  thinking.  Then  Arthur  decided  to 
examine  his  wound  before  the  breakfast  hour ; 
and  when  he  did  so,  he  grew  grave  of  face  and 
manner. 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  tell  you,  old  fellow,  that  I 
must  operate  on  your  neck  to-day.  Your  wound 
is  in  a  very  dangerous  condition  indeed.  It 
should  have  been  operated  upon  a  week  or  ten 
days  ago.  You  shall  have  breakfast  with  us  this 
morning,  as  you  '11  need  all  your  strength.  Of 
course  I  can't  chloroform  you  till  your  break 
fast  is  digested,  so  I  '11  not  operate  till  a  little 
after  noonday." 

"  You  need  n't  give  me  the  chloroform  at  all," 
answered  Kilgariff. 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  the  pain  will  be  —  " 
295 


EVELYN  BTRD 

11 1  '11  stand  it." 

"  But  the  operation  will  be  a  very  delicate 
one,  so  near  to  the  carotid  artery  that  a  mere 
flinch  from  the  knife  might  end  your  life  at 
once." 

"  I  '11  not  flinch,"  said  the  resolute  young  man. 

"  But  what  objection  have  you  to  an  anaes 
thetic  ?  Your  heart  and  lungs  are  in  perfect 
condition.  There  's  not  the  slightest  danger — " 

"  Danger  be  hanged  !  "  interrupted  Kilgariff. 
"  I  am  not  thinking  of  danger  or  caring  about 
it.  But  chloroform  always  leaves  me  helplessly 
ill  for  many  days,  and  I  must  n't  be  ill  or  help 
less  just  now.  I  am  going  back  to  the  lines 
to-morrow.  One  night's  sleep  after  your  opera 
tion  will  put  me  sufficiently  in  condition." 

"  But  you  're  not  fit  for  duty." 

"  Fit  or  not  fit,  I  am  going." 

"  But  it  will  kill  you." 

"  That  does  n't  signify  in  my  case,  you 
know." 

"  Listen  to  me,  Owen  Kilgariff.  You  have 
brooded  over  the  unfortunate  circumstances  of 
your  life  until  you  have  grown  morbid,  particu 
larly  since  this  wound  has  been  sapping  your 
vitality.  You  must  brace  yourself  up  and  take 
296 


EVELYN  LIFTS    THE    CURTAIN 

a  healthier  view  of  things.  If  you  don't,  I  shall 
make  you.  Here  you  are  imagining  yourself 
disgraced  at  the  very  time  when  others  in  high 
places  are  pressing  honours  upon  you  as  the 
well-earned  reward  of  your  superb  conduct.  It 
is  all  nonsense,  I  tell  you,  and  you  must  quit  it ; 
if  not  for  your  own  sake,  then  for  the  sake  of 
us  who  love  you  and  rejoice  in  your  splendid 
manhood.  Your  present  attitude  of  mind  is  not 
to  your  credit.  If  you  were  not  ill,  it  would  be 
positively  discreditable  to  you." 

"Wait  a  minute,  Arthur.  You  are  judging 
me  without  knowing  all  the  facts.  I  '11  tell  you 
of  them  after  breakfast.  Then,  before  you 
operate,  I  must  talk  with  Evelyn  about  her 
papers.  When  that  matter  is  disposed  of,  you 
shall  operate  without  an  anaesthetic,  and  I 
must  return  to  my  duty  on  the  lines." 

"  Your  duty  there  is  done.  You  've  already 
taught  those  fellows  how  to  use  mortars  effec 
tively.  As  to  mere  command,  any  other  officer 
will  attend  to  that  as  well  as  you  could.  I  must 
operate  upon  your  neck,  and  I  will  not  do  it 
without  chloroform.  Indeed,  even  from  your 
own  point  of  view,  there  would  be  nothing 
gained  by  that,  for  after  this  operate  n,  whether 
297 


EVELYN  BTRD 

done  with  or  without  an  anaesthetic,  you  must 
not  only  lie  abed  for  some  days  to  come,  but  be 
so  braced  and  harnessed  that  you  cannot  turn 
your  head." 

Arthur  then  explained  to  his  patient,  as  one 
surgeon  to  another,  the  exact  nature  of  what 
it  was  necessary  to  do,  and  Kilgariff  knew  his 
surgery  too  well  not  to  understand  how  impera 
tively  necessary  it  would  be  for  him  to  be  kept 
perfectly  still,  so  far  as  motion  with  his  head  was 
concerned,  for  a  considerable  period  afterward. 

"Very  well,"  Kilgariff  responded.  "Do  as 
you  will.  But  first  I  must  arrange  the  matter 
of  the  papers.  I  '11  do  that  during  the  fore 
noon.  Then  I  shall  tell  Dorothy  the  things  I 
intended  to  tell  you.  There  is  no  need  that 
I  shall  tell  you,  and  it  will  be  easier  to  tell 
Dorothy." 

"  As  you  please,"  said  Arthur,  satisfied  that 
he  had  carried  his  point.  "  Now  we  must  go  to 
breakfast." 

At  the  table,  Kilgariff  observed  that,  apart 
from  the  "  coffee  "  made  of  parched  rye,  neither 
Dorothy  nor  Evelyn  took  anything  but  fruit. 
There  was  a  cold  ham  on  the  table,  and  the 
customary  loaf  of  hot  bread,  but  the  two  women 
298 


EVELYN  LIFTS   THE   CURTAIN 

partook  of  neither.  When  Kilgariff  half  sug 
gested,  half  asked,  the  reason  for  their  abstemi 
ousness,  Dorothy  replied :  — 

"  We  Virginia  women  are  saving  for  the 
army  every  ounce  of  food  we  can.  So  far  as 
possible,  we  eat  nothing  that  can  be  converted 
into  rations.  Arthur  compels  Evelyn  and  me 
to  take  a  little  meat  and  a  little  bread  or  some 
potatoes  for  dinner.  He  thinks  that  necessary 
to  our  health.  But  for  the  rest,  we  do  very 
well  on  fruits,  vegetables,  and  other  perishable 
things,  don't  we,  Byrdie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed.  For  my  own  part,  I  like 
it.  I  have  had  other  experiences  in  living  on  a 
restricted  diet.  Once  I  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
three  or  four  months  except  meat,  so  in  going 
without  meat  now  I  am  only  bringing  up  the 
average." 

Kilgariff  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  For  three  months  or  more  you  had  no  food 
but  meat ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  No  bread,  no 
starchy  food  of  any  kind  ?  " 

"  Nothing   whatever.      There   were  n't   even 
roots  or  grass  there  to  be  chewed.     The  Ind 
ians  often  live  in  that  way.     Never  mind  that. 
At  another  time  I  lived  for  a  month  in  winter 
299 


EVELYN  BTRD 

almost  exclusively  on  raw  potatoes,  with  only 
now  and  then  a  bit  of  salt  beef." 

"  May  I  ask  why  you  did  not  cook  the  pota 
toes  ?  If  it  was  winter,  surely  you  had  fire." 

"  Oh,  yes,  plenty  of  it.  But  there  was 
scurvy,  and  raw  potatoes  are  best  for  that." 

"  Are  they  ?     I  never  knew  that." 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  for  eating  their  potatoes  raw, 
the  people  in  the  lumber-camps  would  never 
survive  the  winter.  But  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  those  things.  I  did  n't  mean  to.  Per 
haps  I  '11  put  them  all  into  another  book  that 
I  'm  writing  just  for  Dorothy  to  read  and  nobody 
else  in  all  the  world." 

She  looked  at  Dorothy  as  she  spoke,  and 
Dorothy  understood.  This  was  the  first  she 
had  heard  of  the  proposed  "book."  It  was  the 
first  reference  Evelyn  had  made  to  their  talk  on 
the  day  when  she  had  given  her  hostess  an 
exhibition  of  bareback  riding. 

Kilgariff  did  not  understand.  Yet,  taken  in 
connection  with  other  things  that  Evelyn  had 
said  to  him  during  his  former  stay  at  Wyanoke, 
what  she  now  said  seemed  at  least  to  lift  a  little 
corner  of  the  thick  curtain  of  reserve  which 
shrouded  her  life-history. 
300 


EVELYN  LIFTS    THE    CURTAIN 

"She  has  lived,"  he  thought,  "among  the 
wildest  of  wild  Indians,  and  she  has  passed  at 
least  one  winter  in  some  northern  lumber-camp. 
I  wonder  why." 

He  was  not  destined  as  yet  to  get  any  reply 
to  the  question  in  his  mind. 


301 


XXII 

ALONE   IN   THE    PORCH 

"THEN  Kilgariff  asked  Evelyn  to  go 
/  with  him  to  the  front  porch,  telling 
her  he  had  an  important  matter  to 
discuss  with  her,  she  showed  a  momentary  em 
barrassment.  She  quickly  controlled  it,  but 
not  so  quickly  that  it  escaped  her  companion's 
recognition. 

This  troubled  him  at  the  outset.  This  young 
woman  had  been  until  now  as  frank  and  free 
with  him  as  any  child  might  have  been.  Her 
present  embarrassment,  momentary  as  it  was, 
impressed  him.  the  more  strongly  because  the 
scene  at  the  stables  in  the  early  morning  was 
still  fresh  in  his  memory,  and  because  he  had 
observed  that  ever  since  that  time  she  had  uni 
formly  addressed  him  by  his  military  title. 

All  these  things  added  to  the  difficulty  of  his 
present  task,  but  it  was  his  habit  to  meet  trouble 
of  every  kind  half-way,  to  confront  difficulty 
302 


ALONE  IN  THE  PORCH 

with  courage  and  not  with  any  show  of  the 
shrinking  there  might  be  in  his  mind. 

He  plunged  at  once  into  the  matter  in  hand. 
Ordinarily  he  would  have  begun  by  addressing 
his  companion  as  "  Evelyn,"  but  for  some  rea 
son  which  he  did  not  stop  to  analyse,  he  felt 
now  that  he  ought  not  to  do  so.  Yet  to  address 
her  in  any  other  way,  after  having  for  so  long 
called  her  by  her  first  name,  would  be  too 
marked  a  suggestion  of  reserve.  So  he  avoided 
addressing  her  at  all  in  any  direct  fashion. 

"  I  have  asked  you  to  give  me  this  half-hour 
because  I  feel  that  I  owe  you  and  myself  a 
duty." 

He  had  no  sooner  uttered  that  sentence  than 
he  felt  that  it  was  a  particularly  bad  beginning. 
In  his  own  ears  it  sounded  uncommonly  like 
the  introduction  to  a  declaration  of  love,  and 
he  was  annoyed  with  himself  for  his  blunder 
ing.  He  began  again,  and  tried  to  do  so  more 
circumspectly. 

"  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about  a  matter  that 
touches  your  own  happiness  very  closely,  and 
may  indeed  affect  your  entire  life." 

Another  blundering  sentence  !  Even  more 
than  the  first  it  sounded  to  him  like  the  preface 
303 


EVELYN  BTRD 

to  a  formal  courtship,  and,  realising  the  fact, 
Kilgariff  made  the  matter  worse  by  manifesting 
precisely  such  embarrassment  as  a  lover  might 
feel  when  about  to  put  his  fortune  to  the  touch. 

Evelyn  was  quick  to  see  his  embarrassment, 
though  she  probably  had  no  clear  idea  of  its 
cause,  and  she  came  to  his  relief  by  saying 
with  a  well-controlled  and  perfectly  placid  in 
tonation  :  — 

"  I  am  deeply  interested.  I  did  n't  imagine 
myself  a  person  of  sufficient  consequence  for 
anybody  to  have  important  business  affairs  to 
discuss  with  me.  Go  on,  please.  What  is 
it?" 

"  A  little  while  ago,"  he  began  again,  this 
time  approaching  the  subject  with  some  direct 
ness,  "  I  was  summoned  to  meet  a  wounded 
Federal  officer,  who  believed  himself  to  be 
dying.  Probably  he  was  right.  I  do  not  know. 
However  that  may  be,  he  believed  that  his  end 
was  near,  and  I  think  he  tried  to  tell  the  truth 
—  an  art  in  which  he  has  not  had  much  prac 
tice  in  his  evil  life.  I  had  known  him  for  some 
years.  He  had  injured  me  as  no  other  man  in 
all  the  world  ever  did  or  ever  can  again.  There 
were  many  things  that  I  wanted  him  to  tell  me 
304 


ALONE  IN  THE  PORCH 

about,  and  the  time  was  very  short ;  for  I  had 
got  at  the  house  in  which  he  lay  wounded  only 
under  escort  of  an  armed  force,  and  I  knew 
that  my  escort  could  not  long  hold  the  position. 
By  the  time  I  had  finished  questioning  him  con 
cerning  the  matters  in  which  I  was  personally 
interested,  the  enemy  was  upon  us  in  superior 
force,  and  we  were  compelled  to  retire.  Just  as 
I  was  quitting  his  bedside,  he  told  me  something 
that  surprised  and  shocked  me — something  that 
deeply  concerned  you." 

"What  was  it,  please?"  asked  the  girl,  now 
pale  to  the  lips  and  nervously  twisting  her  fingers 
together. 

"  I  should  not  tell  you  that,  I  think ;  not  now, 
at  any  rate.  It  would  only  distress  you  and  do 
no  good.  Perhaps  it  may  not  have  been  true." 

"  You  must  tell  me  that,  or  you  must  tell  me 
nothing  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  rising  in  a  passion 
of  excitement,  and  speaking  as  if  utterance  in 
volved  painful  effort.  "  Understand  me,  Colonel 
Kilgariff.  I  am  not  a  child,  whose  feelings  must 
be  spared  by  reservations  and  concealments.  I 
have  not  been  much  used  to  that  sort  of  cod 
dling,  and  I  will  not  submit  to  it.  My  life  has 
been  such  as  to  teach  me  how  to  endure.  You 
305 


EVELYN  BTRD 

have  some  things,  you  say,  which  you  want  to 
tell  me  —  some  things  that  have  somehow  grown 
out  of  whatever  it  was  that  this  man  said  to  you. 
Very  well,  I  will  not  hear  them,  unless  you  can 
tell  me  all.  I  will  not  listen  to  half-truths.  I 
must  hear  all  of  this  matter,  or  none  of  it.  You 
say  it  concerns  me  closely.  I  am  entitled,  there 
fore,  to  know  all  of  it,  if  I  am  to  know  any  of  it. 
You  are  free  to  tell  me  nothing,  if  you  choose. 
But  if  you  tell  me  a  part  and  keep  back  the  rest, 
you  wrong  me,  and  I  will  not  submit  to  the 
wrong.  I  have  endured  enough  of  that  in  my 
life." 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  re 
sumed  :  — 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  have  seemed  to  speak  angrily 
or  resentfully  to  you.  I  did  not  mean  that.  Such 
anger  as  I  felt  was  aroused  by  bitter  memories  of 
wrong,  which  were  called  up  by  your  proposal  to 
put  me  off  with  a  half-truth.  Let  me  explain 
myself.  You  are  doubtless  thinking  that  I  my 
self  have  been  practising  reserve  and  conceal 
ment  ever  since  I  came  to  Wyanoke.  That  is 
true,  but  it  has  been  only  because  I  have  firmly 
believed  that  I  was  oath-bound  to  do  so ;  and 
at  any  rate  I  have  not  told  any  half-truths. 
306 


ALONE  IN   THE   PORCH 

Whenever  I  have  told  anything,  I  have  told  all 
of  it.  Another  thing  :  I  so  hate  concealments 
that  at  the  first  moment  after  I  learned  that  I 
might  do  so,  I  decided  to  tell  Dorothy  every 
thing  that  I  myself  know  about  my  life.  I  feared 
to  attempt  that  orally,  lest  I  should  grow  ex 
cited  and  break  down ;  so  I  decided  to  write  out 
the  whole  story  and  give  it  to  her.  That  is 
what  I  meant  this  morning  when  I  said  I  was 
writing  a  book  for  Dorothy  alone  to  read.  After 
she  has  read  it,  it  will  be  hers  to  do  with  as  she 
pleases.  It  will  be  an  honest  book,  telling  the 
whole  truth  and  not  half-truths." 

Kilgariff  did  not  interrupt  this  passionate 
speech.  It  revealed  to  him  a  new  and  stronger 
side  than  he  had  imagined  to  exist  in  the  nature 
of  the  woman  he  loved.  He  rejoiced  that  she 
felt  and  thought  as  she  did,  and  he  was  not 
sorry  that  an  error  of  judgment  on  his  part  had 
brought  forth  this  character-revealing  outburst. 
He  promptly  told  her  so. 

"  You  are  altogether  right,"  he  said.  "  I  apol 
ogise  for  my  mistake,  but,  frankly,  I  do  not 
regret  it.  It  has  shown  me  the  strength  and 
truthfulness  of  your  nature  with  an  emphasis 
that  altogether  pleases  me.  I  had  miscalculated 
307 


EVELYN  BTRD 

that  strength,  underestimating  it.  I  sought  to 
spare  your  feelings,  not  knowing  how  brave  you 
are  to  endure.  I  know  you  better  now,  and 
the  knowledge  is  altogether  pleasing." 

"  Thank  you  sincerely.  And  you  will  be  gen 
erous  and  forgive  me  ?  " 

As  she  said  this,  Evelyn  resumed  her  familiar 
tone  and  manner  of  almost  childlike  simplicity. 

"  There  is  nothing  whatever  for  me  to  for 
give,"  the  man  answered,  in  a  way  that  carried 
conviction  of  his  perfect  sincerity  with  it.  "Let 
me  go  on  with  my  story." 

"  Please  do." 

"  Just  as  I  was  hurrying  to  leave  the  wounded 
man  and  go  to  my  guns,  which  were  already 
bellowing,  he  handed  me  a  bundle  of  papers. 
He  said  that  he  had  a  daughter  who  must  be 
somewhere  in  the  South,  if  she  had  not  been 
shot  in  passing  through  the  lines.  He  begged 
me  to  find  her,  if  possible,  and  give  the  papers 
to  her.  When  I  asked  him  the  name  of  his  daugh 
ter,  he  answered  that  it  was  Evelyn  Byrd." 

The   girl  was   livid  and  trembling,  but  what 

passion  it  was  that  so  shook  her  Kilgariff  could 

not  make  out.     He  paused,  to  give  her  time  for 

recovery.     She  slowly  rose  from  the  bench  on 

308 


which  she  was  sitting,  and  with  a  firm,  elastic 
step  walked  out  into  the  grounds,  where  her  mare 
was  grazing.  The  animal  abandoned  the  grass, 
and  trotted  up  to  her  mistress  to  be  caressed. 

As  the  young  woman  stood  there,  strok 
ing  the  mare's  nose,  Kilgariff  thought  it  the 
most  beautiful  picture  he  had  ever  looked 
upon  —  the  lithe,  slender  girl,  who  carried  her 
self  with  the  grace  of  an  athlete  not  overtrained, 
caressing  the  beautiful  mare  and  seeming  to 
hold  mute  but  loving  converse  with  a  bound 
lessly  loyal  friend. 

"  And  how  much  it  means ! "  he  thought. 
"  What  a  nature  that  woman  has !  And  what 
a  life  hers  must  have  been  so  far ! " 

Then  came  over  him  a  great  and  loving  long 
ing  to  be  himself  the  agent  of  atonement  to  her 
for  all  the  wrong  that  had  vexed  her  young  life, 
to  make  her  future  so  bright  and  joyous  that  her 
past  should  seem  to  her  only  a  troubled  dream 
from  which  he  had  been  privileged  to  waken  her. 
But  with  this  longing  came  the  bitter  thought 
that  this  could  never  be  —  that  he  was  debarred 
by  his  own  misfortunes  from  the  privilege  of 
winning  or  seeking  to  win  Evelyn  Byrd's  love. 

Then  arose  again  in  his  mind  the  questions 
309 


EVELYN  BTRD 

of  the  early  morning —  the  question  of  duty,  the 
question  of  the  possibility  of  avoiding  the  wrong 
he  so  dreaded  to  do.  Was  there  yet  time  for 
him  to  take  himself  out  of  Evelyn  Byrd's  life  ? 
Or  was  it  already  too  late  ?  What  and  how  much 
did  her  embarrassment  in  his  presence  mean  ? 
Had  she  indeed  already,  and  all  unconsciously, 
learned  to  return  the  great,  passionate  love  he 
felt  for  her?  Had  he  blundered  beyond  remedy 
in  making  himself  mean  so  much  to  her  ?  Could 
he  now  go  away  and  leave  her  out  of  his  life 
without  inflicting  upon  her  even  a  greater  wrong 
and  a  severer  suffering  than  that  which  his 
leaving  would  be  meant  to  avert  ?  If  not,  then 
what  should  he  do  ?  What  could  he  do  ? 

He  felt  himself  in  a  blind  alley  from  which 
there  was  no  escape.  Unhappy  indeed  is  the 
man  who  is  confronted  with  a  divided  duty,  a 
problem  of  right  and  wrong  which  he  feels  him 
self  powerless  to  solve.  In  that  hour  Owen  Kil- 
gariff  was  more  acutely  unhappy  than  he  had 
ever  been,  even  in  the  darkest  period  of  his 
great  calamity. 

Presently  Evelyn  returned  to  the  porch  and 
seated  herself,  quite  as  if  nothing  had  occurred 
out  of  the  commonplace. 
310 


ALONE  IN   THE  PORCH 

"  What  was  the  man's  name  ? "  she  asked, 
with  no  sign  of  excitement  or  emotion  of  any 
kind  in  her  voice  or  manner. 

"  He  called  himself  Campbell,  but  he  told  me 
that  it  was  an  assumed  name,  and  not  his  own. 
I  do  not  know  his  real  name." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  said  the  young  woman,  in  the 
tone  of  one  who  is  recalling  events  of  the  past. 
"  I  never  knew  that.  But  go  on,  please.  What 
else  did  he  tell  you  —  what  else  that  concerns 
me,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  The  enemy  was  upon  us  hotly, 
and  I  had  no  time  for  further  talk.  Oh,  yes, 
he  did  say  that  he  had  persecuted  you  '  in  a  way  ' 
—  that  was  his  phrase." 

"  I  wonder  what  '  in  a  way '  signified  to  him," 
said  the  young  woman,  with  an  intensity  of 
bitterness  in  her  tone,  the  like  of  which  Owen 
Kilgariff  had  never  heard  in  the  utterance  of 
man  or  woman  before. 

"  Never  mind  that,"  Evelyn  said,  an  instant 
later,  the  look  of  agony  leaving  her  face  as  sud 
denly  as  it  had  appeared.  "  You  have  more  to 
tell  me  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  must  make  a  confession  of  grave 
fault  in  myself,  and  ask  your  forgiveness.  The 


EVELYN  BTRD 

man,  Campbell,  your  father,  gave  me  a  bundle 
of  papers,  as  I  told  you  a  little  while  ago,  and  I 
have  been  impertinently  asking  myself  ever 
since  what  I  ought  to  do  with  them.  It  did  not 
occur  to  me  then  that  there  was  no  question  for 
me  to  decide ;  that  my  undoubted  duty  was  sim 
ply  to  place  the  papers  in  your  hands,  as  I  now 
do  "  —  withdrawing  the  parcel  from  a  pocket 
and  placing  it  in  her  lap.  Dorothy  had  returned 
it  to  him  for  that  purpose.  He  continued  :  — 

"  I  had  not  learned  my  lesson  then.  I  still 
thought  it  my  duty  to  guard  and  protect  you,  as 
one  guards  and  protects  a  child.  I  reasoned  that 
those  papers  very  probably  contained  informa 
tion  or  statements,  true  or  false,  that  would 
afflict  you  sorely,  and  I  impertinently  desired  to 
spare  you  the  affliction.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
realised  that  they  might  contain,  instead,  in 
formation  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  you  and 
calculated  to  bring  gladness  rather  than  sorrow 
to  your  heart.  In  my  perplexity  I  turned  to 
Dorothy  for  help.  All  of  us  who  know  Dorothy 
do  that,  you  know.  I  sent  the  papers  to  her, 
explaining  my  perplexity  concerning  them.  I 
asked  her  to  examine  them  and  determine 
whether  or  not  they  should  be  given  to  you. 
312 


ALONE   IN   THE   PORCH 

"Then  I  learned  my  first  lesson.  Dorothy 
wrote  to  me,  rebuking  me  with  severity  for  my 
presumption.  She  explained  to  me  what  I 
ought  to  have  understood  for  myself  —  that  the 
question  of  what  it  was  best  to  do  with  the 
papers  was  not  mine  to  decide,  or  hers ;  that  I 
had  no  shadow  of  right  to  ask  her  to  read  the 
documents,  and  she  no  possible  right  to  read 
them.  She  bade  me  come  to  Wyanoke  and  do 
my  duty  like  a  man. 

"  That  is  the  real  reason  I  am  here ;  for  as  to 
my  wound,  I  should  have  left  that  to  take  care 
of  itself.  If  it  had  made  an  end  of  me,  so  much 
the  better." 

"  You  have  no  right,  I  reckon,  to  say  that," 
interrupted  Evelyn,  "or  to  think  it,  or  to  feel 
it.  It  is  a  suicidal  thought,  and  quite  unworthy 
of  a  brave  man." 

"  But  my  life  is  my  own,  and  surely  —  " 

"  Not  altogether  your  own ;  perhaps  not 
chiefly.  It  belongs  in  part  to  those  of  us  who  — 
I  mean  to  all  who  care  for  you,  all  to  whom 
your  death  would  bring  sorrow  or  to  whom  your 
living  might  be  of  benefit.  Above  all  it  belongs 
to  our  country  and  our  cause.  You  recognise 
that  fact  in  being  a  soldier.  No ;  I  reckon  your 
313 


EVELYN  BTRD 

life  is  not  your  own  to  do  with  as  you  please.  It 
is  cowardly  in  you  to  think  in  that  way,  just  as 
it  is  cowardly  for  one  to  commit  suicide  because 
he  is  in  trouble  out  of  which  death  seems  the 
only  way  of  escape,  or  the  easiest  way.  So 
please  never  let  yourself  think  in  that  way 
again." 

"  I  will  try  not  to,"  he  replied,  looking  at  his 
lecturer  with  undisguised  admiration. 

"  Now,  while  I  had,  myself,  no  right  to  say 
whether  or  not  you  should  read  those  papers, 
and  while  it  was  not  my  privilege  to  protect  you 
against  any  distress  they  might  bring  to  you,  I 
still  have  a  good  deal  of  apprehension  lest  their 
reading  shall  needlessly  wound  you.  I  am  go 
ing  to  make  a  suggestion,  therefore,  which  I 
hope  you  will  take  in  good  part." 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  myself,"  answered  Evelyn, 
"  for  making  you  feel  in  that  way.  I  am 
ashamed  of  what  I  said  to  you  —  though  it  was 
all  true  and  necessary  —  and  of  the  way  in  which 
I  said  it.  I  wish  I  could  explain  why  I  did  it, 
why  it  hurt  me  so  when  you  tried  to  conceal 
something  from  me.  My  outbreak  has  hurt  you, 
and  almost  humiliated  you,  I  reckon,  and  I  don't 
like  to  think  of  you  being  hurt  and  humiliated. 
314 


ALONE  IN   THE   PORCH 

It  is  good  and  generous  of  you  to  try,  as  you 
have  done,  to  spare  me.  Believe  me  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  feel  it  to  have  been  so.  I  cannot  ex 
plain,  and  it  vexes  me  that  I  must  not.  Won't 
you  believe  that  ?  " 

"  I  believe  anything  you  say,  and  everything 
you  say.  Indeed,  it  is  more  than  belief  that  I 
feel  when  you  tell  me  anything ;  it  is  a  con 
viction  of  actual  and  positive  knowledge.  And 
now  I  very  much  want  you  to  believe  me  when 
I  say  that  it  was  not  your  '  outbreak,'  as  you  call 
it,  that  hurt  and  humiliated  me.  It  was  only  my 
consciousness  of  my  own  presumptuous  imper 
tinence  that  hurt.  I  have  nothing  to  forgive 
in  you  ;  and  my  own  fault  I  cannot  forgive." 

There  were  tears  in  Evelyn's  eyes  as  the 
strong  and  generous  man  who  had  been  so  care 
ful  of  her  said  this,  shielding  her  even  now  by 
taking  all  blame  upon  himself,  just  as  he  had 
shielded  her  long  before  by  keeping  his  own 
person  between  her  and  the  bullets  that  were 
raining  about  them.  For  the  moment  the  old 
childlike  simplicity  came  into  her  bearing.  She 
advanced,  took  Kilgariff's  hand,  and  said:  — 

"  Let 's  forget  all  about  it,  please.     You  have 
always  been  good  to  me." 
315 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Then  the  dignity  came  back,  and,  resuming 
her  seat,  she  said  :  — 

"  You  were  going  to  offer  a  suggestion.  I 
should  like  to  hear  it.  I  am  sure  it  is  meant  for 
my  advantage." 

"  It  is  only  this  :  I  have  a  haunting  fear  that 
your  father  — 

"  He  was  not  my  father,"  the  young  woman 
broke  in,  speaking  the  words  quite  as  if  they 
had  borne  no  special  significance.  "  But  go  on, 
please." 

Kilgariff  almost  lost  the  thread  of  his  thought 
in  his  astonishment  at  this  sudden  statement. 
He  went  on  :  — 

"  Well,  then,  the  man  Campbell,  or  whatever 
his  real  name  was.  I  have  a  haunting  fear  that 
he  has  prepared  those  papers  for  the  purpose  of 
wounding  and  insulting  you.  He  was  capable 
of  any  malice,  any  malignity,  any  atrocity.  He 
may  have  put  into  these  papers  falsehoods  that 
you  will  be  the  better  for  not  reading.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  papers  may  be  innocent  of  any 
such  purpose,  and  it  may  even  be  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  you  should  know  their  contents. 
I  venture  to  suggest  that  you  yourself  do  what 
I  had  no  right  to  do ;  namely,  ask  Dorothy  to 


ALONE  IN   THE  PORCH 

examine  the  packet  and  tell  you  whether  or  not 
it  is  well  for  you  to  read  the  papers.  You  love 
her  and  trust  her,  and  her  judgment  is  unfailing, 
I  might  almost  say  infallible.  This  is  only  a 
suggestion,  of  course.  I  have  no  right  to  press 
it." 

Evelyn  sat  silent,  holding  the  packet  in  her 
hands  and  nervously  turning  it  over.  At  last 
she  arose  and  took  a  few  steps  toward  the  door 
way.  Then,  turning  about,  she  said  :  — 

"  If  it  were  necessary  for  any  one  to  read  the 
papers  and  advise  me  concerning  them,  I  should 
ask  you,  Colonel  Kilgariff ,  to  stand  as  my  friend 
and  counsellor  in  the  matter.  But  it  is  not  neces 
sary.  I  already  know  what  is  in  the  papers." 

She  turned  instantly  and  entered  the  house, 
leaving  Kilgariff  alone  in  the  porch. 


317 


XXIII 

A   LESSON    FROM    DOROTHY 

FOR  ten  days  after  the  surgical  operation, 
Kilgariff  lay  abed,  his  head,  neck,  and 
shoulders  held  rigidly  immovable  by  a 
wooden  framework  devised  for  that  purpose. 
Otherwise  than  as  regarded  the  wound,  he 
seemed  perfectly  well,  and  the  wound  itself 
healed  satisfactorily  under  Arthur  Brent's  skil 
ful  treatment. 

In  his  constrained  position  it  was  impossible 
for  the  wounded  man  to  hold  a  book  before  his 
eyes,  and  so,  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  his  con 
valescence,  Dorothy  read  to  him  for  several 
hours  each  day. 

He  had  vaguely  hoped,  without  formulating 
the  thought,  that  Evelyn  would  render  him  this 
service,  as  she  had  done  during  his  first  illness. 
But  this  time  she  came  not.  Every  day  —  until 
the  success  of  the  operation  was  fully  assured, 
she  inquired  anxiously  concerning  his  condition  ; 
but  at  no  time  did  she  visit  him,  or  ask  to 


A   LESSON  FROM  DOROTHT 

do  so.  When  at  last  Arthur  so  far  relaxed  the 
mechanical  restraints  that  Kilgariff  was,  able 
to  sit  below  stairs  in  the  porch  when  the 
weather  permitted,  and  before  a  "  great,  bearded 
fire"  in  the  hallway  if  it  were  too  cool  out  of 
doors  —  for  the  autumn  was  now  advanced  — 
he  was  sorely  disappointed  to  learn  that  Evelyn 
was  no  longer  at  Wyanoke.  She  had  somewhat 
suddenly  decided  to  stay  at  Branton,  for  a  week 
or  ten  days,  as  the  guest  of  Edmonia  Bannister. 

All  this  set  Kilgariff  thinking,  and  the  think 
ing  was  by  no  means  comfortable.  Did  Evelyn's 
course  mean  indifference  on  her  part  ?  It 
would  have  given  him  some  pain  to  believe 
that,  but  it  would  have  relieved  him  greatly. 
In  that  case,  he  might  go  away  and  never  come 
back,  without  fear  of  any  harm  to  her  or  any 
wrong-doing  on  his  own  account.  In  that  case, 
the  problem  that  so  sorely  vexed  him  would  be 
completely  solved. 

Certainly  that  was  the  outcome  of  the  matter 
which  he  was  bound  to  hope  for.  Yet  the  very 
suggestion  that  such  might  be  the  end  of  it  all 
distressed  him  more  than  he  had  thought  that 
any  possible  solution  of  the  difficulty  could  do. 

But,    in    fact,    Owen    Kilgariff   knew   better. 
319 


EVELYN  BTRD 

When  he  recalled  what  had  gone  before,  he 
could  not  doubt  the  interpretation  of  Evelyn's 
avoidance  of  him,  and  this  thought  troubled 
him  even  more  than  the  other.  It  brought  back 
to  him  all  the  perplexities  of  that  problem  with 
which  he  had  been  so  hopelessly  wrestling  ever 
since  that  morning  at  the  stables. 

What  should  he  do  ?  What  could  he  do  ? 
These  questions  were  insistent,  and  he  could 
give  no  answer  to  them.  At  one  moment  his 
old  thought  of  a  parity  of  disability  came  back 
to  him  —  the  thought  that  as  she  was  the  daughter 
of  a  gambling  adventurer,  the  obligation  on  his 
part  not  to  seek  her  love  or  win  it  might  not 
be  altogether  binding.  But  then  flashed  into 
his  mind  a  memory  of  her  words:  — 

"  He  was  not  my  father." 

That  excuse,  then,  no  longer  availed  him. 
He  could  no  longer  —  and  yet,  and  yet.  The 
more  he  thought,  the  more  difficult  he  found 
it  to  accept  the  hopelessness  of  the  case  or 
make  up  his  mind  to  take  himself  out  of 
Evelyn's  life.  Yet  that,  he  confidently  believed, 
he  would  instantly  do  if  he  could  satisfy  him 
self  that  it  was  not  already  too  late  for  Evelyn 
herself  to  welcome  such  an  outcome. 
320 


A   LESSON  FROM  DOROTHY 

One  morning  he  opened  his  mind  to  Dorothy 
on  the  subject,  and  got  a  moral  castigation  for 
his  pains.  The  gear  that  had  restrained  his 
movements  had  been  completely  removed  by 
that  time,  and  Kilgariff  was  contemplating  an 
almost  immediate  return  to  his  post  on  the  lines 
at  Petersburg. 

"  I  am  sorely  troubled,  Dorothy,"  he  began. 
"  I  am  going  away  two  or  three  days  hence, 
and  I  wish  I  could  go  without  seeing  Evelyn 
again." 

"  Oh,  I  can  easily  manage  that,"  answered 
she,  with  a  composure  and  a  commonplaceness 
of  tone  which  seemed  inscrutable  to  her  com 
panion.  She  took  his  remark  quite  as  a  matter 
of  rourse,  treating  it  as  she  might  had  he  merely 
said :  — 

"  I  should  like  to  leave  my  horse  here." 

It  was  not  an  easy  conversational  situation 
from  which  to  find  a  way  out.  Obviously  it 
was  for  him  to  make  the  next  remark,  and  he 
could  not  think  what  it  should  be.  Possibly 
Dorothy  intended  that  he  should  be  perplexed. 
At  any  rate,  she  manifestly  did  not  intend  to 
help  him  out  of  his  difficulty. 

Presently  he  found  the  way  out  of  it  for  him- 
321 


EVELYN  BTRD 

self —  the  only  way  that  Dorothy  would  have 
tolerated.  That  is  to  say,  he  became  perfectly 
frank  with  her. 

"  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about  that,"  he  said, 
"if  I  may.  I  am  much  troubled;  and  while  I 
have  no  right  to  call  upon  you  for  any  sort  of 
help,  I  feel  that  it  may  clear  my  mind  simply 
to  tell  you  all  about  the  matter." 

"  I  will  listen  with  pleasure,"  she  said,  quite 
coldly. 

Then  he  blurted  out  the  whole  story.  He 
told  her  —  as  he  need  not  have  done,  for  she 
was  not  a  woman  for  nothing  —  of  the  intensity 
of  his  love  for  Evelyn ;  of  the  purpose  he  had 
cherished  to  conceal  his  state  of  mind  from  its 
object,  and  suffer  in  silence  a  love  which  he  felt 
himself  honourably  bound  not  to  declare.  Then, 
with  some  difficulty,  he  told  her  of  the  scene  at 
the  stables,  and  of  all  that  had  followed :  he 
explained  how  these  things  had  bred  a  fear  in 
his  mind  that  it  was  already  too  late  for  him 
simply  to  go  away,  saying  nothing. 

Dorothy  did  not  help  him  in  the  least  in  the 

embarrassment  he  necessarily  felt  in  suggesting 

that  perhaps  the  girl  loved  him  already.     On 

the  contrary,  she  sat  silent  during  the  recital; 

322 


A   LESSON  FROM  DOROTHT 

and  when  it  was  ended  she  said,  very  coldly, 
and  with  a  touch  of  severity  in  her  manner :  — 

"  If  I  correctly  understand  you,  you  are  of 
opinion  that  Evelyn  has  fallen  in  love  with  you 
without  being  asked.  It  is  perhaps  open  to  you 
to  cherish  a  belief  of  that  kind,  but  is  it  quite 
fair  to  the  young  woman  concerned  for  you  to 
make  a  statement  of  that  kind  to  me  —  either 
directly  or  by  implication  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did  n't  mean  that—  "  stammered 
Kilgariff ;  but,  instead  of  accepting  his  protest, 
Dorothy  mercilessly  thrust  him  through  with 
another  question  :  — 

"  Might  I  ask  what  you  did  mean,  then  ? " 

Kilgariff  did  not  answer  at  once.  It  was 
impossible  to  escape  the  relentless  logic  of 
Dorothy's  question.  It  was  equally  impossible 
to  turn  Dorothy  by  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth 
away  from  the  truth  she  sought.  Gentle  as  she 
was,  forbearing  as  it  was  her  nature  to  be,  she 
was  utterly  uncompromising  in  her  love  of  truth. 
Moreover,  in  this  case  she  was  disposed  to  be 
the  more  merciless  in  her  insistence  upon  the 
truth  for  the  reason  that  Kilgariff  had  blunder 
ingly  offended  the  dignity  of  her  womanhood. 
She  held  his  assumption  concerning  Evelyn's 
323 


EVELYN  BTRD 

state  of  mind  and  heart  to  be  an  affront  to  her 
sex,  and  she  was  not  minded  to  let  it  pass  with 
out  atonement. 

In  his  masculine  way,  Kilgariff  had  many  of 
Dorothy's  qualities.  He  shared  her  love  of 
absolute  truthfulness,  and  his  courage  was  as 
resolute  as  her  own.  He  met  her,  therefore, 
on  her  own  ground.  After  a  moment's  pause, 
he  said :  — 

"  I  suppose  I  did  mean  what  you  say ;  and 
yet  I  meant  it  less  offensively  than  you  assume. 
I  frankly  acknowledge  my  fault  in  speaking  to 
you  of  the  matter.  I  had  no  right  to  do  that, 
even  with  you.  I  was  betrayed  into  it  by  the 
exceeding  perplexity  of  the  situation.  I  was 
wrong.  I  ask  your  forgiveness." 

"That  is  better,"  responded  Dorothy.  "I 
fully  believe  you  when  you  say  you  did  not 
mean  to  do  an  unmanly  thing.  For  the  rest, 
I  cannot  see  that  your  situation  is  at  all  a  per 
plexing  one,  except  as  you  needlessly  make  it 
so." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  you,"  replied 
Kilgariff,  "  and  yet  I  cannot  explain  my  diffi 
culty  in  understanding  without  in  effect  repeat 
ing  my  error  and  emphasising  it.  I  should  be 
324 


A   LESSON  FROM  DOROTHT 

rejoiced  to  know  that  there  is  no  foundation  for 
the  fears  that  I  have  been  entertaining  without 
any  right  to  entertain  them." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  Would  you  really 
rejoice  to  know  that  Evelyn  Byrd's  sentiments 
toward  you  are  only  those  of  friendship  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so.  It  would  involve  a  good  deal 
of  distress  to  me,  of  course ;  but  I  count  the 
other  consideration  as  supreme.  It  would  en 
able  me  to  feel  that  I  am  privileged  to  go  away 
from  here  carrying  my  burdens  on  my  own  back 
and  allowing  no  straw's  weight  to  fall  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  only  woman  in  the  world  that 
I  ever  loved  or  ever  shall." 

Dorothy  made  no  reply  in  words.  Instead, 
she  turned  her  great,  brown  eyes  full  upon  him 
and  looked  at  him  for  the  space  of  twenty  sec 
onds,  in  a  way  that  brought  a  flush  to  his  face. 
Then,  still  making  no  direct  reply  to  anything 
he  had  uttered,  she  said  :  — 

"  I  am  very  greatly  displeased  with  you,  Owen 
Kilgariff.  And  I  am  very  greatly  disappointed." 

She  rose  to  withdraw,  but  Kilgariff  stopped 
her,  and  with  eager  earnestness  demanded  :  — 

"  Why,  Dorothy  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  explain." 
325 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  But  you  must.  It  is  my  right  to  demand 
that.  If  you  go  away  after  saying  that,  and 
without  explaining  what  you  mean,  you  will  do 
me  a  grievous  injustice  —  and  you  hate  injus 
tice." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  said  precisely 
what  I  did.  I  ought  to  have  remembered  that 
you  are  morbid  ;  that  by  your  brooding  you  have 
wrought  yourself  into  a  diseased  condition  of 
mind.  When  you  recover,  you  will  understand 
clearly  enough  that  it  is  every  honest  man's 
privilege  to  woo  where  his  heart  directs.  He 
must  woo  honestly,  of  course,  but  the  honest 
wooing  of  am  an  is  no  wrong  and  no  insult  to 
a  maid.  Only  a  morbid  self-consciousness  like 
your  own  could  imagine  otherwise." 

"  Then  you  would  wish  me  to  — 

"  I  wish  nothing  in  the  case.  I  have  said  all 
that  I  shall  say.  If  I  have  spoken  severely,  it 
has  been  because  I  have  little  patience  with 
your  diseased  imaginings.  I  don't  think  I  like 
you  very  well  just  now." 

She  left  him  to  think. 


326 


XXIV 

EVELYN'S   BOOK 


L 


ATE  that  day,  came  a  letter  and  a  par 
cel  from  Evelyn  to  Dorothy.  In  the 
letter  the  girl  wrote  :  — 


I  am  going  to  stay  here  at  Branton  for  two  or  three 
more  days.  That  is  because  I  do  not  want  to  be  with 
you  while  you  are  reading  the  book  I  have  written  for 
you.  Two  or  three  days  will  be  enough  for  the  read 
ing.  Then  I  am  going  back  to  Wyanoke.  I  have 
been  over  to  the  hospital  camp  every  morning,  so  I 
don't  need  to  tell  you  that  I  am  perfectly  well. 

I  am  sending  the  book  by  the  boy  who  is  to  carry 
this.  Please  read  it  within  two  days,  so  that  I  may 
go  home  to  Wyanoke.  You  know  how  much  I  love 
you,  so  I  need  n't  put  anything  about  that  in  this  let 
ter.  But  Edmonia  sends  her  love,  and  so  does  Mrs. 
Pegram.  What  a  dear  she  is  !  She  wants  me  to  call 
her  'Agatha,'  and  I'm  beginning  to  do  so.  But  I  would 
like  it  better  if  she  would  let  me  say  'Cousin  Agatha' 
instead.  Somehow  that  seems  more  like  what  I  feel. 
327 


EVELYN  BTRD 

I  reckon  Colonel  Kilgariff  will  be  going  back  to 
Petersburg  about  now.  If  he  hasn't  gone  yet,  please 
give  him  my  regards  and  good  wishes.  I  hope  he 
won't  get  himself  wounded  again. 

Dorothy  faithfully  delivered  Evelyn's  pecul 
iarly  reserved  message  to  Kilgariff,  whereupon 
the  young  gentleman  declared  his  purpose  of 
returning  to  Petersburg  on  the  third  day  follow 
ing,  that  being  the  earliest  return  that  Arthur, 
as  his  surgeon,  would  permit. 

"  But  I  shall  call  at  Branton  to  see  Evelyn 
first,"  he  added.  This  brought  a  queer  look 
into  Dorothy's  eyes,  but  whether  it  was  a  look 
of  pleasure,  or  of  regret,  or  of  simple  surprise, 
he  could  not  make  out.  "  After  all,"  he  thought, 
"it  doesn't  matter.  I  have  decided  to  take  this 
affair  into  my  own  hands.  And  they  shall  be 
strong  hands  too  —  not  weak  and  irresolute,  as 
they  have  been  hitherto." 

Before  opening  the  manuscript,  Dorothy  sent 
off  a  young  negro  to  Branton,  with  a  little  note 
to  Evelyn,  in  which  she  wrote  :  — 

I  shall  not  read  a  line  of  what  you  have  written 
until  I  have  told  you  how  much  gratified  I  am  that 
you  have  wanted  in  this  way  to  tell  me  about  yourself. 
328 


EVELYN'S  BOOK 

It  means  much  to  me  that  you  wish  to  tell  me  those 
things,  whatever  they  may  be,  that  concern  you.  An 
other  thing  I  want  to  say  to  you  before  reading  your 
manuscript,  and  that  is  that  no  matter  what  it  may 
reveal,  I  shall  love  and  cherish  you  just  the  same. 
You  remember  what  I  said  to  you  once  —  that  I  know 
you,  and  that  no  fact  or  circumstance  of  the  past  can 
in  the  least  alter  my  feelings  toward  you.  Be  very  sure 
of  that.  Now  I  am  going  to  read  your  manuscript. 

She  began  the  task  at  once.    This  is  what  she 
read :  — 

EVELYN'S    BOOK 

WRITTEN  FOR  DOROTHY  AND  NOBODY  ELSE 

Preface 

AM  going  to  tell  you  all  about  myself  in  this 
book,  Dorothy  —  or  at  least  all  that  I  know. 
I  have  wanted  to  tell  you,  ever  since  you  began 
being  so  good  to  me,  and  I  began  to  love  you. 
I  reckon  you  won't  like  some  of  the  things  I 
must  tell,  but  I  can't  help  that :  I  must  tell  you 
all  of  them  anyhow,  because  it  is  right  that  I 
should.  I  could  n't  tell  you  so  long  as  I  thought 
I  had  sworn  not  to.  Now  that  you  have  ex 
plained  to  me  about  a  parole,  I  am  going  to  do 
329 


EVELYN  BTRD 

it.  But  I  am  going  to  put  it  in  writing,  because 
I  can  tell  it  better  that  way.  And  besides,  I 
might  forget  some  things  if  I  tried  to  tell  them 
all  with  my  tongue.  And  there  are  some  of  the 
things  which  you  may  want  to  read  about  more 
than  once,  so  as  to  make  up  your  mind  about  them. 
Now  that  is  all  of  the  preface. 

Chapter  the  First 

T  DON'T  know  where  I  was  born.  I  reckon 
•••  it  must  have  been  somewhere  in  Virginia, 
because,  when  I  first  saw  you  and  heard  you 
speak,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  got  back  home  again 
after  a  long  stay  away.  Your  voice  and  the 
way  you  pronounced  your  words  seemed  so 
natural  to  me  that  I  think  the  people  about  me 
when  I  was  a  child  must  have  talked  in  the* 
same  way.  You  know  how  quickly  I  fell  into 
the  Virginia  way  of  speaking.  That  was  be 
cause  it  all  seemed  so  natural  to  me. 

So  I  think  I  must  have  been  born  in  Virginia. 
At  any  rate  I  had  a  black  mammy.  I  remem 
ber  her  very  well.  She  was  very,  very  big  — 
taller  than  a  tall  man,  and  very  broad  across 
her  back.  I  know  that,  because  she  used  to 
330 


EVELYN'S  BOOK 

get  down  on  the  floor  and  let  me  ride  on  her 
back,  making  believe  she  was  a  horse. 

Her  name  was  Juliet.  When  I  read  about 
Romeo  and  Juliet  years  afterward,  I  remember 
laughing  at  Shakespeare  for  not  knowing  that 
Juliet  was  big  and  strong  and  black.  That 
must  have  been  while  I  was  still  a  little  child, 
or  I  should  have  understood  better.  Besides, 
I  remember  where  I  was  when  I  read  the  play, 
and  I  know  I  was  only  a  little  child  when  I  was 
there. 

That  is  all  I  remember  about  my  life  in  Vir 
ginia,  if  it  was  in  Virginia  that  I  was  born. 
There  must  have  been  other  people  besides 
Juliet  around  me  at  that  time,  but  I  do  not  re 
member  anything  about  them.  I  cannot  recall 
what  kind  of  a  house  we  lived  in ;  but  I  do 
remember  playing  on  a  beautiful  lawn  under 
big  trees.  And  I  recollect  that  there  were  a 
great  many  squirrels  there,  just  as  there  are  in 
the  trees  in  your  Wyanoke  grounds.  It  is 
strange,  isn't  it,  that  I  should  remember  the 
squirrels  and  not  the  people  ?  But  perhaps 
that  is  because  I  used  to  feed  the  squirrels  and 
play  with  them,  and  one  day  one  of  them  bit  me 
painfully.  I  must  have  been  treating  it  badly. 
331 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Chapter  the  Second 

'"TT^HE  next  thing  that  I  remember  is  being 
•*•  in  a  large  city  somewhere.  We  lived  in 
a  hotel.  My  father  and  mother  were  with  me, 
and  a  great  many  men  came  to  see  my  father, 
and  talked  with  him  about  business  things.  I 
did  n't  know  then,  but  I  think  now  that  my 
father  was  engaged  in  some  kind  of  speculation, 
and  these  men  had  something  to  do  with  it.  At 
any  rate,  my  father  was  a  speculator  always,  and 
I  think  he  sometimes  gambled,  for  I  heard  some 
one  say  afterward  that  he  would  "  gamble  on  any 
thing  from  the  turn  of  a  card  to  the  wrecking 
of  a  railroad."  That  was  long  after,  however, 
and  I  did  n't  understand  what  the  words  meant. 
I  reckon  I  don't  quite  understand  even  now, 
but  at  any  rate  I  know  that  my  father  was 
always  busy ;  that  he  had  something  to  do  with 
a  water-works,  and  some  railroads,  and  some 
steamboats,  and  some  stores,  and  many  other 
things.  Sometimes  he  seemed  to  have  more 
money  than  he  knew  what  to  do  with,  and 
sometimes  he  was  very  poor.  My  mother  used 
to  cry  a  good  deal,  though  I  reckon  my  father 
never  treated  her  badly,  as  I  never  heard  him 
332 


EVELYN'S   BOOK 

scold  her  in  any  way.  When  she  would  cry, 
it  seemed  to  distress  him  terribly.  He  would 
go  away,  sometimes  for  days  at  a  time,  and 
when  he  came  back  he  would  put  a  large  pile 
of  money  in  her  lap  and  beg  her  to  cheer  up 
and  believe  in  him. 

I  did  n't  know  at  that  time  what  my  father's 
name  was.  Everybody  called  him  "Jack,"  and 
that  was  all  I  heard.  I  was  a  very  little  girl 
at  that  time,  and  if  I  ever  heard  his  full  name 
in  those  days,  I  can't  remember  the  fact.  But 
I  loved  him  very  much.  He  was  always  very 
good  to  me,  and  he  laughed  a  great  deal  in  a 
way  that  I  liked.  I  did  n't  like  to  see  my 
mother  cry  so  much,  so  I  loved  my  father  far 
better  than  I  did  my  mother. 

Chapter  the  Third 

'  S  ^HERE  seems  to  be  a  gap  in  my  memory 

-*•     at  this  point.     I  know  I  must  have  been 

a  very  little  girl  at  the  time  I  have  spoken  of  — 

only  four  or  five  years  old  at  most.     The  next 

thing  I  remember  is  that  we  landed  from  a  big 

ship  that  had  big  sails,  and  a  good  many  people 

and  a  cow  on  the  top,  and  a  great  many  pumps 

333 


EVELYN  BTRD 

My  father  wasn't  with  us,  and  as  I  can't  re 
member  thinking  about  his  absence,  I  suppose 
I  had  n't  seen  him  for  a  long  time.  There  were 
only  my  mother  and  my  grandmother,  and  me 
—  or  should  I  say  "  I  "  ?  —  I  don't  know. 

I  reckon  I  must  have  been  six  or  seven  years 
old  then. 

When  the  ship  landed,  a  man  named  Campbell 
met  us  at  the  landing.  His  name  wasn't  really 
Campbell,  as  I  have  since  found  out,  but  he  was 
called  by  that  name.  I  remembered  him  in  a 
vague  way.  He  had  been  one  of  those  who 
came  to  see  my  father  when  we  lived  in  the 
hotel.  My  father  called  him  his  partner,  and 
once,  when  my  father  suddenly  became  very 
poor,  he  called  Campbell  a  swindler  and  a 
scoundrel,  and  said  he  had  ruined  all  of  us. 
I  did  n't  know  at  that  time  what  the  words 
"swindler"  and  "scoundrel"  meant,  but  from 
the  way  in  which  my  father  spoke  them  I 
knew  they  were  something  very  bad  ;  so  I  hated 
Campbell. 

That  was  the  only  time  I  ever  heard  my  father 

and  mother   quarrel.     I   remember  it,  because 

it  frightened  me  terribly.     They  seemed  to  be 

quarrelling  about  Campbell.     When  my  father 

334 


EVELYN'S  BOOK 

called  him  by  bad  names,  my  mother,  as  I  now 
understand,  seemed  to  defend  him,  and  that 
made  my  father  angrier  than  ever. 

So,  when  Campbell  met  us  at  the  ship  and 
seemed  so  glad  to  see  my  mother,  I  thought  of 
my  father,  and  I  hated  Campbell.  I  remem 
bered  the  names  my  father  used  to  call  him, 
though  I  still  did  n't  know  what  the  words 
meant.  So,  when  Campbell  tried  to  pet  me,  I 
resented  it  in  my  childish  fashion,  saying :  — 

"  You  're  a  swindler,  you  know,  and  a  scoun 
drel.  I  don't  want  you  to  talk  to  me." 

He  pretended  to  laugh,  but  I  know  now  that 
he  was  very  angry  with  me. 

Some  time  after  that  (I  don't  know  how  long, 
but  it  was  probably  not  long)  my  mother  and 
Campbell  got  married,  out  in  a  Western  city 
somewhere,  and  went  away  for  a  time,  leaving 
me  with  my  grandmother. 

I  could  n't  understand  it,  and  I  said  so.  Just 
before  they  started  away  on  a  train,  my  mother 
told  me  in  the  railroad  station  that  Campbell 
was  my  new  papa,  and  that  I  must  love  him 
very  much.  I  remember  what  I  said  in  reply. 
I  asked :  — 

"  Is  my  father  dead  ? " 
335 


EVELYN  BTRD 

"  Don't  talk  about  that,  dear,"  said  my  mother, 
trying  to  hush  me.  But  I  asked  the  question 
again :  — 

"  Is  my  father  dead  ? " 

"  No,  dear,  but  your  father  has  gone  away, 
and  we  '11  never  see  him  again.  So  you  must  n't 
think  about  him." 

"  Then  you  have  two  husbands  at  once,"  I 
answered.  "  How  can  you  have  two  husbands 
at  once  ? " 

She  tried  to  explain  it  by  telling  me  that  my 
father  was  no  longer  her  husband,  but  I  couldn't 
understand.  And,  Dorothy,  I  don't  understand 
it  now.  Of  course  I  know  now  that  my  parents 
.had  been  divorced,  but  I  don't  and  can't  under 
stand  how  a  woman  who  has  been  a  man's  wife 
can  make  up  her  mind  to  be  any  other  man's 
wife  so  long  as  her  first  husband  lives.  I  sup 
pose  I  was  a  very  uncompromising  little  girl  at 
that  time,  and  I  was  very  apt  to  say  what  I 
thought  about  things  without  any  flinching  from 
ugly  truths.  So,  when  they  went  on  trying  to 
hush  me  by  telling  me  that  Campbell  was  now 
rny  papa,  I  flew  into  a  great  rage.  I  took  hold 
-of  my  hair  and  tore  out  great  locks  of  it.  I 
tried  to  tear  off  my  clothes,  and  all  the  time 
336 


EVELYN'S   BOOK 

I  was  saying  things  that  caused  all  the  pas 
sengers  in  the  station  to  gather  about  us ;  some 
of  them  laughing,  and  some  looking  on  very 
solemnly,  as  I  shrieked :  — 

"  I  won't  have  him  for  my  new  papa  !  He  's 
a  swindler  and  a  scoundrel !  My  papa  told  you 
so  a  long  time  ago !  I  hate  him,  and  I  'm  going 
to  hate  you  now  and  for  ever,  amen !  " 

I  did  n't  know  what  the  words  meant,  but  they 
had  been  strongly  impressed  upon  my  memory 
by  the  vehemence  with  which  my  father  had 
uttered  them  long  before.  As  for  the  final 
phrase,  with  the  "  amen "  at  the  end  of  it,  I 
had  heard  it  in  church,  and  had  somehow  got 
the  impression  that  it  was  some  kind  of  highly 
exalted  curse. 

Campbell  was  angry  almost  beyond  control. 
I  think  he  would  have  liked  to  kill  me,  and  I 
think  he  would  have  done  so  but  for  all  those 
people  standing  by  while  I  so  bitterly  vitu 
perated  him.  As  he  could  not  do  that,  he 
said  angrily  to  my  grandmother :  — 

"  Take  her  away  !     Take  her  away  quick  !  " 

My  grandmother  then  threw  my  little  cloak 
over  my  head  to  suppress  my  voice,  and  hur 
ried  me  into  a  carriage.  To  some  woman  who 
337 


EVELYN  BTRD 

drove  with  us  to  our  hotel,  my  grandmother  said, 
thinking  I  would  not  understand  :  — 

"  I  'm  seriously  afraid  the  child  is  right." 
I   understood,  and   I   liked  my  grandmother 
better  than  ever,  after  that. 

Chapter  the  Fourth 

T  T  7HEN  Campbell  and  my  mother  came  back 
from  their  journey,  he  seemed  determined 
to  placate  me.  He  brought  me  many  toys. 
Among  them  was  a  big  doll  that  could  open 
and  shut  its  eyes  and  cry.  I  did  not  utter  a 
word  of  thanks.  I  did  n't  feel  any  gratitude  or 
pleasure.  I  took  the  toys,  and  dealt  with  them 
in  my  own  way.  A  very  bad  man  had  been 
hanged  in  the  town  a  little  while  before,  and  I 
had  heard  the  matter  talked  of  a  great  deal. 
So  I  got  a  string,  tied  it  around  the  doll's  neck, 
and  proceeded  to  hang  it  to  the  limb  of  a  tree 
in  our  yard.  The  rest  of  the  toys  I  threw  into 
a  little  stream  near  our  house.  When  all  was 
done,  I  returned  to  the  house  and  marched  into 
the  drawing-room,  where  a  good  many  people 
had  gathered  to  greet  my  mother  and  her  new 
husband.  Everybody  grew  silent  when  I  en- 
338 


EVELYN'S  BOOK 

tered  the  room.  They  had  all  heard  of  the 
scene  I  had  made  at  the  railroad  station,  and 
they  now  held  their  breath  to  wait  for  what  I 
might  say  or  do. 

I  walked  straight  up  to  Campbell  and  said, 
as  loudly  as  I  could  :  — 

"  I  have  hanged  that  doll  you  gave  me,  and 
I  've  pitched  the  other  things  into  the  creek. 
You  're  a  swindler  and  a  scoundrel,  and  I  hate 
you." 

There  was  a  great  commotion,  but  I  gave  no 
heed  to  that  or  anything  else.  Before  anybody 
could  think  of  what  was  best  to  be  done,  I 
turned  about  and  marched  out  of  the  room  with 
all  the  dignity  I  could  muster. 

I  am  not  sorry  or  ashamed  over  these  things, 
Dorothy.  I  think  I  was  right,  and  I  am  glad  I 
did  as  I  did.  But  that  was  the  beginning  of 
trouble  for  me. 

Chapter  the  Fifth 

rE    were    living    then   in    Campbell's    big 
house,  in    some  Western    city.     It   was 
a  very  fine  and  costly  place,  I  reckon.     A  little 
bedroom  had  been  furnished  for  me,  opening 
339 


EVELYN  BTRD 

off  the  suite  of  rooms  that  Campbell  and  my 
mother  were  to  occupy.  If  it  had  been  in  any 
body's  house  but  Campbell's,  I  should  have 
loved  that  beautiful  bedroom.  As  it  was,  I 
hated  it  with  all  my  soul.  My  grandmother 
and  I  had  gone  to  the  house  on  the  day  before 
my  mother's  return,  and  that  night  —  the  night 
before  they  came  back  —  I  was  put  to  bed  in 
my  room.  I  lay  there  with  my  eyes  wide  open 
till  I  knew  that  everybody  else  in  the  house  was 
asleep.  Then  I  slipped  out  of  bed,  crept  down 
stairs,  and  out  over  the  wet  grass  to  a  kennel 
that  had  been  assigned  to  my  own  big  Saint 
Bernard  dog,  Prince.  I  crept  in,  and  slept  be 
side  the  big,  shaggy  fellow  till  morning,  when 
a  great  outcry  was  raised  because  I  was  missing 
from  my  room. 

All  the  servants  said  my  behaviour  was  due 
to  my  loneliness  in  the  great  house.  That 
was  n't  so.  I  was  never  lonely  in  my  life,  be 
cause  whenever  I  began  to  feel  lonely  I  always 
called  the  fairy  people  to  me,  and  they  were 
glad  to  come.  I  had  created  them  in  my  own 
fancy,  and  they  loved  me  very  much.  But  I 
would  n't  invite  them  into  that  room  or  that  house- 
So  I  went  to  Prince,  as  my  only  other  friend. 
340 


EVELYN'S  BOOK 

But  after  my  outbreak  in  the  drawing-room, 
a  servant  was  directed  to  take  me  to  my  room 
and  lock  me  in.  I  sat  there  in  the  window- 
seat  for  a  long  time,  wondering  what  would 
be  done  to  me  next,  and  wondering  how  I 
was  to  escape  from  my  prison ;  for  I  fully 
intended  to  escape,  even  if  I  should  find  no 
other  way  than  by  leaping  out  of  my  second- 
story  window. 

After  a  while,  the  door  was  opened  and 
Campbell  came  in.  I  could  see  that  he  was 
very  angry,  and  I  was  particularly  glad  of  that, 
because  it  showed  me  that  my  words  had  hurt 
his  feelings  very  much.  That  was  what  I 
intended. 

He  had  a  little  switch  in  his  hand,  and,  as  he 
stood  over  me,  glowering  in  order  to  scare  me 
before  speaking,  I  saw  it.  I  instantly  seized  a 
heavy  hair-brush  that  a  maid  kept  to  brush  my 
thick  hair  with. 

"  You  must  n't  strike  me."  That  was  all  I 
said. 

"  I  'm  going  to  teach  you  better  manners," 
he  began. 

"  You  'd   better  not   try,"   I    answered.     "  If 
you  strike  me,  /'//  kill  you." 
341 


EVELYN  BTRD 

I  meant  that,  Dorothy ;  and  when,  a  minute 
later,  he  struck  me  with  the  switch,  meaning  to 
give  me  a  dozen  blows,  I  reckon,  I  leaped  at 
him  - —  slender,  frail  little  child  that  I  was  — 
and  with  all  the  strength  my  baby  arm  had,  I 
struck  him.  full  in  the  face  with  the  edge  of  the 
heavy  brush.  I  fully  intended  that  the  blow 
should  brain  him.  It  only  broke  his  nose,  but 
it  made  him  groan  with  pain. 

Now  I  want  to  be  absolutely  truthful  with 
you,  Dorothy.  You  must  n't  excuse  my  attempt 
to  kill  that  man,  on  the  ground  that  I  was  a 
mere  child  and  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing. 
I  was  a  mere  child,  of  course,  but  I  knew  what 
I  was  doing  or  trying  to  do,  and  I  felt  no  sort 
of  regret  afterward,  when  he  had  to  send  for  a 
surgeon  to  mend  his  nose  bone,  and  had  to  lie 
abed  for  a  fortnight  with  a  fever.  Or,  rather, 
I  did  feel  regret ;  but  it  was  only  regret  over 
the  fact  that  I  had  done  so  little.  I  had  meant 
to  kill  him,  and  I  was  very  sorry  that  I  had  not 
succeeded.  That  is  the  fact,  and  you  must 
know  it.  And  more  than  that,  it  is  the  fact, 
that  even  now,  when  I  am  a  grown-up  woman 
and  have  thought  out  a  code  of  morals  for  my 
self,  I  still  cannot  feel  any  regret  over  what  I 
342 


EVELYN'S   BOOK 

did,  except  that  I  did  n't  succeed  in  doing  more. 
I  would  do  now  what  I  tried  to  do  then,  if  the 
situation  could  repeat  itself. 

I  don't  know  what  you  will  think  about  all 
this.  But  I  don't  want  you  to  think  about  it 
without  knowing  that  I  am  not  sorry  for  it,  but 
justify  it  in  my  own  mind.  I  am  trying  to  be 
perfectly  honest  and  truthful  with  you  ;  so  that 
if  you  love  me  at  all  after  reading  my  book,  it 
shall  be  with  full  knowledge  of  all  that  is  worst 
in  me.  If  you  don't  love  me  after  you  know 
all,  I  shall  go  away  quickly  and  not  pain  you 
with  my  presence. 

Now,  Dorothy,  I  want  you  to  stop  reading 
this  book  and  put  it  away  for  a  few  hours  — 
long  enough  for  you  to  think  about  what  I  have 
written,  and  make  up  your  mind  about  this  part 
of  my  story.  After  that,  you  can  read  the  rest 
of  it  and  make  up  your  mind  about  that. 


Dorothy  complied  with  this  request.  She 
laid  the  book  aside  for  two  hours.  Then  she 
came  back  to  the  reading  ;  but  before  begin 
ning  again,  she  scribbled  this  paragraph  at  the 
bottom  of  the  page  last  read  :  — 
343 


EVELYN  BTRD 

I  have  taken  two  hours  of  recess  from  the  reading. 
There  was  no  need  of  that.  My  whole  soul  sympa 
thises  with  that  poor,  persecuted  little  creature.  So 
far  from  condemning  her  words  or  acts,  I  rejoice  in 
them.  I  approve  them,  absolutely  and  altogether. 
I  see  nothing  to  condemn,  nothing  to  excuse. 

DOROTHY. 


344 


XXV 

MORE    OF   EVELYN'S    BOOK 

WHEN  Dorothy  resumed  her  reading, 
her    sympathies    were    keenly  alive 
and  responsive.     She  had   thought 
out  the  matter,  and  reached  a  definite  conclu 
sion  which  entirely  satisfied  her  conscience. 

"Ordinarily,"  she  thought,  "  I  should  think 
it  excessively  wrong  to  sympathise  with  a  desire 
to  kill,  or  even  to  tolerate  it  in  my  mind.  But 
I  see  clearly  that  in  that  matter,  as  in  most 
others,  there  are  questions  of  circumstance  to 
be  considered.  Every  human  being  has  a  right 
to  kill  in  self-defence.  Both  law  and  morals 
recognise  that  In  a  state  of  nature,  I  suppose, 
every  man  is  constantly  at  war  on  his  own 
private  account,  and  he  has  an  entire  right  to 
make  war  in  defence  of  himself  and  his  family. 
The  only  reason  he  has  n't  that  right  in  a  state 
of  civilisation  is  that  society  protects  him,  in 
345 


EVELYN  BTRD 

return  for  his  giving  up  his  right  to  make  pri 
vate  war.  But  when  society,  as  represented  by 
the  state,  refuses  to  protect  him,  or  when 
the  state  cannot  protect  him,  he  has  his 
right  of  private  war  in  full  force  again. 

"  That  was  Evelyn's  case.  She  was  a  helpless 
child  in  the  hands  of  a  brute.  There  was  no 
way  in  which  she  could  secure  protection  from 
any  wrong  he  might  see  fit  to  do  her.  So, 
when  he  came  with  evident  intent  to  do  her 
harm,  she  had  a  perfect  right,  I  think,  to  fight 
for  herself  in  any  way  she  could.  No  human 
being  is  under  obligation  to  submit  to  an  insult 
or  a  blow. 

"Besides  —  well,  never  mind  that.  I  was 
thinking  of  the  way  in  which  we  all  recognise 
killing  in  war  as  entirely  legitimate.  But  that 
is  a  large  subject,  which  I  have  n't  thought  out 
to  the  end  as  yet.  For  the  present  purpose  it 
is  enough  to  know  that  Evelyn  had  a  right  to 
make  such  war  as  she  could  —  poor  little  mite 
of  a  girl  that  she  was  —  upon  that  brutal  man. 
I  should  have  done  the  same  under  like  circum 
stances.  Yes;  I  heartily  approve  her  conduct." 
"With  that,  Dorothy  turned  again  to  the  manu 
script,  and  read  what  follows  :  — 
346 


MORE   OF  EVELYN'S   BOOK 

Chapter  the  Sixth 

T  HAD  hurt  Campbell  very  badly  indeed  I 
•••  had  shattered  the  bridge  of  his  nose  to  bits, 
and  there  was  a  great  commotion  in  the  house 
—  sending  for  a  lot  of  doctors,  and  all  that.  My 
mother  thought  of  nothing  but  staunching  the 
blood  and  getting  the  doctors  there.  The  ser 
vants  were  all  excited  and  running  about  bring 
ing  hot  water  and  towels  and  so  forth,  so  that 
no  attention  was  paid  to  me. 

I  took  advantage  of  the  confusion.  I  put  on 
a  little  cloak  and  my  sun-bonnet,  and  quietly 
slipped  out  through  one  of  the  back  doors  into 
the  grounds.  Then  I  called  my  dog,  Prince,  to 
go  with  me,  and  in  the  gloaming  —  for  it  was 
nearly  nightfall  —  he  and  I  waded  across  the 
little  creek  that  ran  at  the  back  of  the  place. 
The  house  stood  at  the  extreme  edge  of  the 
little  city,  and  there  was  no  town  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  creek.  So  Prince  and  I  went  on 
down  the  road,  meeting  nobody. 

My  grandmother  had  left  the  town  that  day, 

to  go  back  to  her  home  somewhere  in  the  East, 

so  I  made  up  my  mind  to  walk  toward  the  East 

every  day  till  I  should  come  to  the  village  where 

347 


EVELYN  BTRD 

she  lived.  I  knew  the  name  of  the  village,  but 
I  did  n't  know  what  State  it  was  in  or  how  far 
away  it  might  be ;  still,  I  hoped  to  find  it  after 
a  while,  by  inquiring  of  people.  But  I  feared 
a  search  would  be  made  for  me,  so  I  decided 
not  to  reveal  myself  by  making  inquiries  till  I 
should  be  far  away  from  the  town  where  Camp 
bell  and  my  mother  lived. 

After  walking  along  the  road  for  what  seemed 
to  me  many  hours,  Prince  and  I  climbed  over  a 
fence  and  went  far  into  the  woods.  There  we 
hid  ourselves  in  a  clump  of  pawpaw  bushes  and 
went  to  sleep. 

When  we  woke,  there  was  a  heavy  rain  fall 
ing,  and  we  were  very,  very  hungry.  So  we  set 
out  to  find  a  road  somewhere,  so  that  we  might 
come  to  a  house  and  ask  for  something  to  eat. 
But  there  did  n't  seem  to  be  any  end  to  the 
woods.  We  went  on  and  on  and  on,  without 
coming  out  anywhere.  I  ate  two  pawpaws  that 
I  found  on  the  bushes,  but  poor  Prince  could  n't 
eat  pawpaws,  so  he  had  to  go  starving. 

At  last  we  grew  so  tired  that  we  stopped  to 

rest,  and  I  fell  asleep.     When  I  waked,  it  was 

still  raining  hard,  and  my  clothing   was   very 

wet,  and  I  was  very  cold,  and  it  was   nearly 

348 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S   BOOK 

night  again.  So  I  told  Prince  we  must  hurry, 
and  find  a  house  before  it  should  grow  dark. 

But  when  I  tried  to  hurry,  my  feet  would  n't 
do  as  I  wanted  them  to.  My  knees  seemed  to 
give  way  under  me,  and  I  grew  very  hot.  My 
head  ached  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and  my 
eyes  bulged  so  that  I  could  n't  see  straight. 
Finally  I  seemed  to  forget  who  I  was,  or  where 
I  was  trying  to  go.  Then  I  went  to  sleep. 

When  I  waked,  I  was  lying  in  that  bedroom 
in  Campbell's  house,  and  a  nurse  was  sitting  by 
me.  I  tried  to  get  up,  but  could  n't.  So  I  went 
off  to  sleep  again,  and  when  I  waked  once  more, 
I  understood  that  I  was  very  ill  and  had  been  so 
for  a  considerable  time.  I  asked  somebody  if 
Prince  had  been  fed,  and  learned  that  he  had. 
I  never  asked  another  question  about  the  mat 
ter,  and  to  this  day  I  do  not  know  how  long  I 
lay  unconscious  in  the  woods,  or  who  found  me 
there,  or  how,  or  anything  about  it. 

I  must  have  taken  a  good  while  to  get  well ; 
for  I  remember  how  every  morning  I  planned 
to  run  away  again  the  following  night,  and  how 
before  night  came  I  found  myself  still  unable  to 
do  anything  but  lie  in  bed  and  take  my  medicine. 

When  at  last  I  was  able  to  sit  in  a  rocking- 
349 


EVELYN  BTRD 

chair  for  an  hour  or  two  at  a  time,  my  mother 
undertook  to  chide  me  a  little  about  my  con 
duct.  I  reckon  she  did  n't  accomplish  much, 
because  she  began  at  the  wrong  end  of  the 
affair. 

"  You  hurt  Mr.  Campbell  very  badly,"  she 
said. 

"Did  I?     I'm  glad  of  that." 

"You  are  a  very  wicked  girl." 

To  that  statement  I  made  no  reply.  I  ac 
cepted  it  as  true,  but  I  was  not  sorry  for  it. 
Instead,  I  asked  :  — 

"  Is  he  going  to  die  ?  " 

"  No.  But  he  is  very  ill.  That  is  to  say,  he 
is  suffering  a  great  deal  of  pain." 

"  I  'm  glad  of  that." 

"  You  terrible  child  !  What  am  I  to  do  with 
you  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  'm  going  to  run  away  again 
as  soon  as  I  can.  You'd  better  let  me  stay 
runaway." 

Small  as  I  was,  I  vaguely  understood  that  my 
mother's  first  care  was  for  the  man  Campbell, 
and  that  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  she  cared 
only  for  the  trouble  she  expected  me  to  give  her. 
If  she  had  loved  me  a  little,  if  she  had  taken 
350 


MORE   OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

me  into  her  lap  and  seemed  a  little  bit  sorry  for 
me,  I  reckon  she  might  have  had  an  easier  time 
with  me.  But  she  did  nothing  of  that  kind. 
Instead  of  that,  she  managed  to  make  me  feel 
that  she  regarded  me  somewhat  in  the  light  of 
a  criminal  for  whom  she  was  responsible. 

She  set  a  watch  upon  me  day  and  night,  keep 
ing  me  practically  a  prisoner  in  my  own  room. 
That  was  because  I  had  made  the  mistake  of 
telling  her  I  meant  to  run  away  again.  But  even 
as  a  prisoner,  I  might  have  been  tractable  if  she 
had  spoken  kindly  and  lovingly  to  me  when  she 
visited  my  room,  which  she  did  two  or  three 
times  a  day.  Instead  of  that,  she  always  looked 
at  me  as  one  might  at  a  desperate  criminal,  and 
she  talked  to  me  of  nothing  but  what  she  called 
my  wickedness,  saying  that  it  would  break  her 
heart. 

Even  when  I  got  well  enough  to  go  out,  I  was 
kept  in  my  room  until  at  last  the  doctor  posi 
tively  ordered  that  I  should  be  sent  out  of  doors 
every  day.  When  that  was  done,  a  servant 
maid  whom  I  particularly  disliked  was  sent  with 
me,  under  orders  never  to  let  me  out  of  her 
sight  for  a  moment.  I  was  as  completely  a 
prisoner  out  of  doors  as  in  the  house.  But  out 
351 


EVELYN  BTRD 

of  doors  I  could  sit  down  at  the  root  of  a  tree, 
shut  my  eyes,  and  bring  my  fairy  friends  to  me. 
In  that  way  I  managed  to  make  myself  happy 
for  little  spells,  as  I  could  not  do  in  my  room, 
for  I  simply  would  not  ask  the  fairy  people  to 
go  to  that  horrible  place. 

But  this  relief  was  soon  taken  from  me.  The 
servant  who  watched  me,  seeing  me  sit  with  my 
eyes  shut,  reported  that  I  spent  all  the  time  out 
of  doors  in  sleep.  She  was  directed  by  Camp 
bell,  who  had  assumed  control  of  my  affairs,  not 
to  let  me  sit  down  at  all  out  of  doors. 

When  this  was  reported  to  me,  I  simply  re 
fused  to  go  out  of  doors  again,  and  I  stuck  to 
that  resolution  in  spite  of  all  commands  and 
threats.  My  health  soon  showed  the  results  of 
confinement,  and  the  doctor,  who  was  a  friendly 
sort  of  man,  but  strongly  prejudiced  by  the  bad 
things  he  had  been  told  about  me,  did  all  he 
could  to  persuade  me  to  go  out.  I  absolutely 
refused.  Then  my  health  grew  still  worse,  and 
finally  the  doctor  insisted  that  I  should  be  sent 
away  somewhere. 

Before  that  could  be  arranged,  something  else 
happened  to  affect  me.  I  '11  tell  you  about  that 
in  another  chapter. 

352 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

Chapter  the  Seventh 

>"T~VHE  servant  who  acted  as  my  keeper  sud- 
-•-  denly  changed  her  manner  toward  me 
about  this  time.  She  talked  with  me  in  a 
friendly  way,  and  she  sang  to  me,  trying  to 
teach  me  to  sing  with  her.  I  refused  to  do 
that,  because  I  was  unhappy  and  did  not  feel 
like  singing.  But  I  rather  liked  to  hear  her 
sing,  as  she  had  a  pretty  good  voice.  Still,  in 
my  childish  way,  I  distrusted  the  girl.  I  could 
not  understand  why  she  had  been  so  unkind  to 
me  before,  if  her  present  kindness  was  sincere. 
She  begged  me  to  go  out  of  doors  with  her, 
and  promised  of  her  own  accord  that  I  should 
sit  down  and  shut  my  eyes  whenever  I  pleased. 
After  a  day  or  two,  I  so  far  yielded  as  to  go  out 
with  her  for  an  hour  and  have  a  romp  with 
Prince.  But  I  resolutely  refused,  then  or  on 
succeeding  days,  to  sit  down  and  shut  my  eyes, 
and  call  the  fairy  people.  I  felt,  somehow,  that 
it  would  compromise  my  dignity  to  accept  sur 
reptitiously  and  from  a  servant  a  privilege  which 
was  forbidden  to  me  by  the  servant's  master  and 
mistress. 

Still,  I  went  out  for  a  little  while  every  day. 
353 


EVELYN  BTRD 

The  girl  called  our  outings  "  larks,"  which  puz 
zled  me  a  good  deal,  as  I  knew  there  were  no 
larks  in  the  town.  Finally,  one  brilliant  moon 
light  night,  as  I  sat  looking  out  of  the  window, 
the  girl,  as  if  moved  by  some  sudden  impulse, 
said :  — 

"  Let 's  go  out  for  a  lark  in  the  moonlight. 
I  '11  put  your  cloak  and  bonnet  on  you,  and  it 
will  do  you  good." 

I  consented,  and  we  quickly  made  ourselves 
ready.  Just  after  we  had  got  out  of  doors,  I 
noticed  that  the  girl  had  a  satchel  in  her  hand ; 
and  when  I  questioned  her  about  it,  she  said 
that  she  wanted  to  make  believe  that  we  were 
two  ladies  going  to  travel ;  "  and  ladies  always 
have  satchels  when  they  travel,"  she  explained. 

We  wandered  about  for  a  little  while,  and 
then  the  girl  led  the  way  to  the  extreme  corner 
of  the  grounds,  a  spot  which  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  house  even  in  the  daytime,  because  of 
the  trees.  There  was  a  little  gate  there,  which 
opened  into  a  road,  and  the  girl  proposed  that 
we  should  pass  through  it  for  some  reason  which 
I  cannot  now  remember. 

We  had  walked  only  a  little  way  beyond  the 
gate  when  we  came  to  a  carriage  which  was 
354 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

standing  still,  with  a  big  man  on  the  box  and  a 
tall,  slender  man  standing  by  the  open  door  of 
the  vehicle.  When  this  man  turned  his  face 
toward  me  in  the  moonlight,  I  recognised  him. 
He  was  my  father!  He  stooped  and  put  his 
arms  about  me  tenderly,  laughing  a  little,  as  he 
always  had  done  when  talking  with  me,  but 
stopping  the  laugh  every  moment  or  two  to  kiss 
me.  Then  he  told  me  to  get  into  the  carriage 
so  that  we  might  go  for  a  drive.  When  I  had 
got  in,  he  gave  the  servant  girl  some  money, 
and  said  :  — 

"  If  you  keep  your  mouth  shut  and  know 
nothing,  there  '11  be  another  hundred  for  you. 
I  shall  know  if  you  talk,  and  if  you  do  there  '11 
be  no  money  for  you.  I  '11  send  the  money,  if 
you  don't  talk,  in  two  weeks,  in  care  of  the 
bank." 

Then  we  drove  away  in  the  moonlight,  and  I 
found  presently  that  the  girl  had  put  the  satchel 
into  the  carriage.  I  learned  the  next  morning 
that  it  contained  some  of  my  clothes,  and  my 
combs  and  brushes. 

We  travelled  in  the  carriage  for  several  hours, 
and  then  got  on  board  a  railroad  train,  which 
took  us  to  Chicago. 

355 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Chapter  the  Eighth 

\  T  7E  had  n't  been  many  days  in  Chicago 
when  one  morning  about  daybreak  my 
father  waked  me  and  said  that  Campbell  was 
after  me,  so  that  we  must  hurry.  My  father 
had  bought  me  a  lot  of  things  in  Chicago  — 
clothes  of  many  kinds,  and  a  few  books.  I 
reckon  he  did  n't  know  much  about  clothes  or 
books  —  poor  papa  —  for  all  the  clothes  were 
red,  and  the  books,  as  I  now  know,  were  in 
tended  for  much  older  people  than  I  was.  But 
he  said  that  red  was  the  prettiest  colour,  and  as 
for  the  books,  the  man  that  sold  them  had  told 
him  that  they  were  "  standard  works."  I  remem 
ber  that  one  of  them  was  called  Burke  s  Works, 
and  another  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire.  I  simply  could  n't  like  Burke  s 
Works,  but  I  reckon  that  was  only  because  I 
did  n't  know  what  Mr.  Burke  was  talking  about. 
I  reckon  I  did  n't  understand  Gibbon  very  well, 
but  I  liked  him,  because  he  told  some  good 
stories,  and  because  his  sentences  were  musical. 
I  liked  Macaulay's  Miscellanies  for  the  same 
reason,  and  I  liked  Macaulay's  History  because 
it  was  so  simple  that  I  could  understand  it. 
356 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

Best  of  all,  I  liked  Rasselas,  The  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  The  British  Drama, 
and  Shakespeare  —  at  least,  in  parts.  I  liked 
to  read  about  Parolles,  and  the  way  he  was 
tricked  and  his  cowardice  exposed.  I  identified 
him  with  Campbell,  and  rejoiced  when  he  got 
into  trouble.  I  suppose  that  was  wicked,  but 
I  'm  telling  you  all  my  thoughts,  Dorothy,  so 
that  you  may  know  the  whole  truth  about  me 
and  not  be  deceived.  I  liked  Falstaff,  too. 

I  liked  Rasselas,  because  in  his  happy  valley 
there  was  no  man  like  Campbell.  And  I  liked 
Robinson  Crusoe  for  the  same  reason.  Somehow 
I  liked  to  live  with  him  on  his  island,  because  I 
knew  that  if  Campbell  should  land  there,  Robin 
son  Crusoe  would  shoot  him. 

But  above  all,  I  liked  the  British  Drama, 
because  it  opened  a  new  and  larger  life  to  me 
than  any  that  I  had  ever  known. 

When  my  father  waked  me  up  on  that  morn 
ing,  I  hurriedly  packed  my  books  and  clothes 
into  a  trunk.  There  were  very  few  under 
clothes,  for  my  father  knew  nothing  about  such 
things,  but  there  were  many  red  dresses  and  red 
cloaks  and  red  hats.  And  there  were  two  fur 
coats  —  big  enough  for  a  grown  woman  to  wear. 
357 


EVELYN  BTRD 

We  got  on  board  a  train  and  travelled  all  day. 
Then  we  took  another  train  and  travelled  all 
night,  till  we  came  to  the  end  of  the  railroad. 
Then  we  got  into  a  cart  and  travelled  three  or 
four  days  into  the  woods. 

Finally  we  came  to  a  camp  in  the  woods, 
where  my  father  seemed  to  be  master  of  every 
thing  and  everybody.  There  were  Indians  there 
and  half-breeds,  and  Canadian  lumber-men,  for 
it  was  a  lumber-camp.  There  was  a  Great  Lake 
there,  and  many  little  lakes  not  far  away.  I 
reckon  the  Great  Lake  was  Lake  Superior,  but 
I  don't  know  for  certain. 

There  were  no  women  in  the  camp  except 
squaws  and  half-breeds.  They  were  pretty  good 
people,  but  very  dirty,  so  I  could  not  live  with 
them.  My  father  made  the  men  build  a  little 
log  house  for  him  and  me,  and  he  made  them 
hew  a  bath-tub  for  me  out  of  a  big  log.  Then 
he  hired  a  half-breed  girl  to  heat  water  every 
day  and  fill  the  tub  for  me  to  bathe  in.  As  for 
himself,  he  jumped  into  the  lake  every  morning, 
even  when  he  had  to  make  the  men  cut  a  hole 
in  the  ice  for  his  use. 

I  liked  the  lumber-camp  life  because  I  was 
free  there,  and  because  there  were  big  fires  at 
358 


MORE   OF  EVELTN'S  BOOK 

night,  like  bonfires.  One  of  them  was  just 
before  my  door,  and  my  father  made  an  Indian 
boy  keep  it  blazing  all  night  for  me,  so  that  I 
might  see  the  light  of  it  whenever  I  waked. 
I  used  to  sit  by  it  and  read  my  books,  even 
when  the  snow  was  deep  on  the  ground ;  for  by 
turning  first  one  side  and  then  the  other  to  the 
fire  I  could  keep  warm.  And  the  Canadians  and 
the  half-breeds  and  the  Indians  used  to  squat 
on  the  ground  near  me  and  beg  me  to  read  the 
books  aloud  to  them.  As  they  all  spoke  French, 
and  understood  no  word  of  English,  of  course 
they  didn't  understand  what  I  read  to  them, 
but  they  liked  to  hear  me  read,  and  it  was 
sometimes  hard  to  drive  them  away  to  their 
beds,  even  when  midnight  came. 

They  taught  me  French  during  the  year  I 
lived  among  them.  You  tell  me  it  is  very  bad 
French,  and  I  reckon  it  is ;  but  it  was  all  they 
knew :  they  did  their  best,  and  I  reckon  that  is 
all  that  anybody  can  do.  At  any  rate,  they 
were  kind  to  me,  and  they  taught  me  all  the 
ways  of  the  birds  and  the  animals.  I  tried  to 
teach  them  to  be  kind  to  the  birds  and  the 
animals,  after  I  began  to  understand  the  wild 
creatures ;  but  the  camp  people  never  would 
359 


EVELYN  BTRD 

learn  that.  Their  only  idea  of  an  animal  or  a 
bird  was  to  eat  its  flesh  and  sell  its  skin. 

There  was  a  young  priest  there  who  knew 
better,  and  he  ought  to  have  loved  the  birds 
and  animals.  But  he  used  to  talk  about  God's 
having  given  man  dominion  over  the  beasts  and 
the  birds,  and  that  doctrine  perverted  his  mind, 
I  think.  He  killed  a  pretty  little  chipmunk,  one 
day,  to  get  its  skin  to  stuff.  That  chipmunk  was 
my  friend.  I  had  taught  it  to  climb  up  into  my 
lap  and  eat  out  of  my  hand.  He  persuaded  it 
to  climb  into  his  lap,  and  then  he  betrayed  its 
confidence  and  killed  it.  I  was  very  angry  with 
him.  I  picked  up  an  ox-whip  and  struck  him 
with  it  twice.  I  was  only  a  little  girl,  but  I  had 
grown  strong  in  the  outdoor  life  of  the  camp, 
and  it  doesn't  take  much  strength  to  make  an 
ox-whip  hurt. 

There  was  great  commotion  in  the  camp  when 
this  occurred.  The  people  there  were  very  re 
ligious  in  their  way,  but  they  seemed  to  me  to 
worship  the  priest  rather  than  God.  They 
didn't  mind  sinning  as  much  as  they  pleased, 
because  they  knew  that  the  priest  would  forgive 
their  sins  on  easy  terms ;  but  they  thought  that 
my  act  in  striking  the  priest  with  the  ox-whip 
360 


MORE   OF   EVELYN'S   BOOK 

was  a  peculiarly  heinous  crime.  Perhaps  it  was, 
but  I  can't  even  yet  so  look  upon  it.  They 
regarded  him  as  a  "man  of  God";  but  if 
he  was  so,  why  did  he  deceive  the  poor  little 
chipmunk,  and  persuade  it  to  trust  him,  and 
then  kill  it  cruelly  ?  Dorothy,  I  am  not  a  bit 
sorry,  even  now,  that  I  chastised  him  with  the 
ox-whip. 

["  Neither  am  I,"  wrote  Dorothy  in  the  mar 
gin  of  the  manuscript.] 

But  the  occurrence  created  a  great  disturb 
ance  in  the  camp,  and  so  my  father  had  to  take 
me  away,  for  fear  that  the  lumber-men  would 
kill  me.  Curious,  is  n't  it,  that  while  they  were 
so  religious  as  to  feel  in  that  way  about  the 
priest,  who  after  all  was  only  a  man,  they  were 
yet  so  wicked  that  they  were  ready  to  commit 
murder  in  revenge  ?  But  those  people  were 
very  ignorant  and  very  superstitious.  They 
thought  some  terrible  calamity  would  fall  upon 
them  if  I  were  permitted  to  remain  in  the  camp. 
I  think  they  cared  more  about  that  than  they 
did  about  the  priest.  Even  those  who  had  been 
kind  to  me,  teaching  me  to  ride  bareback  and 
to  shoot  and  to  fish  and  to  make  baskets,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it,  turned  against  me ;  so  that  my 


EVELYN  BTRD 

father  had  to  stand  by  me  with  his  pistols 
cocked  and  ready  in  his  hand,  till  he  could  get 
me  out  of  the  camp. 

Chapter  the  Ninth 

T^ROM  that  camp  my  father  took  me  way  up 
•*-  to  Hudson's  Bay.  We  travelled  over  the 
snow  on  sledges  drawn  by  dogs,  and  I  learned 
to  know  the  dogs  as  nobody  else  did.  They 
were  savage  creatures,  and  would  bite  anybody 
who  came  near  them.  But  somehow  they  never 
bit  me.  They  didn't  like  to  be  petted,  but  they 
let  me  pet  them.  I  don't  know  why  this  was 
so,  but  it  was  so. 

We  did  not  remain  long  at  Hudson's  Bay  — 
only  a  few  weeks.  After  that,  we  went  some 
where —  I  don't  know  where  it  was — where 
the  whale-men  came  ashore  and  rendered  out 
the  blubber  they  had  got  out  at  sea. 

You  must  remember  that  my  father  had  many 
interests.  He  owned  part  of  the  lumber-camp 
we  had  stayed  in,  he  had  a  fur  trade  at  Hud 
son's  Bay,  and  he  had  an  interest  in  some 
whaling-ships.  Wherever  we  went,  my  father 
seemed  to  be  at  home  and  to  be  master  of  the 
362 


MORE    OF   EVELYN'S  BOOK 

men  about  him.  I  admired  him  greatly,  and 
loved  him  very  much.  I  wondered  how  my 
mother  could  have  left  him  and  married  Camp 
bell.  I  am  wondering  over  that  even  yet. 

It  was  while  we  were  at  Hudson's  Bay  that  I 
began  to  understand  something  about  my  father. 
He  sat  down  with  me  one  day  (he  didn't  often 
sit  down  for  more  than  a  few  minutes  at  a  time, 
but  on  this  occasion  he  sat  with  me  for  nearly 
half  a  day)  and  explained  things  to  me. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  some  things,  little  girl," 
he  said,  "  and  I  want  you  to  try  to  understand 
them.  Above  all,  I  want  you  to  remember  them. 
You  know  sometimes  I  have  a  great  deal  of 
money,  and  sometimes  I  have  none  at  all.  That 
is  because  my  business  is  a  risky  one.  Some 
times  I  make  a  great  deal  of  money  out  of  it, 
and  sometimes  I  lose  a  great  deal. 

"  Now,  when  your  mother  left  me,  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  provide  well  for  her  and  you,  so  that 
no  matter  what  else  should  happen,  you  and  she 
might  never  come  to  want.  You  see,  I  still  loved 
your  mother.  I  insured  my  life  for  a  large  sum, 
and  as  I  had  plenty  of  money  then,  I  paid  for 
the  insurance  cash  down.  You  don't  understand 
about  such  things,  and  it  isn't  necessary  that 
363 


EVELYN  BTRD 

you  should.  But  by  insuring  my  life  and  pay 
ing  cash  for  the  insurance,  I  made  it  certain  that 
whenever  I  should  die,  a  rich  insurance  com 
pany  would  pay  you  a  big  sum  of  money ;  I  had 
purposely  made  it  payable  to  you  and  not  to 
your  mother,  because  I  knew  you  would  take 
care  of  your  mother,  while  she  could  never  take 
care  of  anybody  or  anything.  I  also  bought 
some  bonds  and  stocks  and  put  them  in  your 
name,  and  placed  them  in  a  bank  in  New  York. 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  pay  close  attention  and 
try  to  understand  what  I  tell  you.  Here  are 
some  papers  that  I  want  you  to  keep  always  by 
you  — always  in  your  little  satchel.  Always  have 
them  by  you  when  you  go  to  bed,  and  always 
lock  them  up  by  day.  Take  them  with  you 
wherever  you  go. 

"  This  one  is  my  will.  It  gives  you  everything 
that  I  may  happen  to  own  when  I  die."  With 
that,  he  handed  me  the  papers. 

"  This  one  is  the  life-insurance  policy.  When 
I  die,  you,  or  whoever  is  acting  for  you,  will 
have  to  present  that  to  the  life-insurance  com 
pany,  together  with  doctors'  certificates  that  I 
am  really  dead.  Then  the  company  will  pay 
you  the  money. 

364 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S   BOOK 

"This  one  is  a  list  of  the  securities  —  the 
bonds  and  stocks  —  that  I  have  deposited  in 
your  name  in  the  Chemical  Bank  of  New  York. 
You  see,  it  is  signed  by  the  cashier  of  that  bank. 
It  is  a  receipt  for  the  bonds  and  stocks.  So  you 
must  keep  it  very  carefully. 

"Now,  another  thing  you  must  remember:  you 
can't  draw  the  money  on  my  life-insurance  policy 
until  I  die ;  but  you  can  get  these  bonds  and 
stocks  at  any  time  that  you  please,  merely  by 
presenting  the  receipt  and  asking  for  them.  So 
long  as  you  are  a  little  girl  under  age,  you 
couldn't  do  this  for  yourself.  Somebody  must 
do  it  for  you.  You  must  be  very  careful  whom 
you  select  for  that  purpose." 

Then  he  gave  me  the  names  and  addresses  of 
several  gentlemen,  who,  he  said,  were  his  friends 
and  honest  men,  and  advised  me  to  apply  to 
them  to  act  for  me  if  I  ever  had  occasion  to  do 
anything  of  the  kind.  Then  he  went  on  to  say: 

"The  scoundrel,  Campbell,  knows  that  you 
own  all  this,  besides  some  houses  and  lands 
(  here 's  a  memorandum  of  them)  which  I  have 
deeded  to  you.  In  the  hope  of  getting  hold  of 
your  property,  he,  as  your  stepfather,  has  had 
himself  appointed  your  guardian.  It  is  a  shame 
365 


EVELYN  BTRD 

that  the  courts  allow  that,  but  he  owns  a  judge  or 
two,  and  he  has  managed  to  get  it  done.  That 
is  why  he  is  following  us  and  trying  to  get  hold 
of  you.  He  doesn't  know  what  your  property 
is,  or  where,  and  he  thinks  you  will  have  these 
papers.  So,  if  he  can  get  hold  of  you,  he  thinks 
he  can  get  hold  of  the  property  also.  If  I  can 
manage  to  get  you  to  New  York,  I  '11  take  the 
papers  out  of  your  hands  and  place  them  in 
charge  of  some  men  there  whom  I  can  trust. 
But  as  I  may  fail  in  that,  and  as  something 
may  happen  to  me,  I  want  you  to  have  the 
papers. 

"  I  am  pretty  well  off  just  now,  but  my  business 
is  very  uncertain.  When  I  die,  I  may  be  very 
rich,  or  I  may  '  go  broke '  any  day  between  now 
and  then.  That  is  why  I  have  put  this  property 
into  your  hands  while  I  have  it.  I  am  a  reck 
less  fellow.  I  '  take  the  very  longest  chances ' 
sometimes  in  my  business  enterprises.  Some 
times  I  suddenly  lose  pretty  nearly  everything 
I  have  in  the  world,  and  I  might  die  just  at 
such  a  time.  So  I  have  provided  for  you  in 
any  case. 

"  If  I  can  get  to  New  York  with  you,  I  am 
going  to  hide  you  completely  from  that  man, 
366 


MORE    OF  EVELYN'S  BOOK 

Campbell.  There  is  an  excellent  gentlewoman 
there  in  whose  hands  I  intend  to  put  you.  She 
is  a  woman  to  be  trusted,  and  she  is  rather  poor, 
so  she  will  be  glad  to  take  charge  of  you  and 
keep  you  out  of  Campbell's  way,  damn  him  ! 
Pardon  me,  dear!  I  didn't  mean  to  swear  in 
your  presence.  I  only  mean  that  I  can  give 
that  lady  plenty  of  money,  and  she  can  take 
you  wherever  she  thinks  you  will  be  safe." 

"  But  I  had  much  rather  stay  with  you,  Father," 
I  answered,  with  tears  in  my  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  And  God  knows,"  he  said, 
"  that  I  had  rather  have  you  with  me.  But 
everything  is  a  gamble  with  me.  I  have  many 
enemies,  child,  and  some  one  of  them  may  make 
an  end  of  me  any  day.  The  other  way  will  be 
safest  for  you." 

"  I  don't  care  for  myself,"  I  answered.  "  I 
only  care  for  you,  and  to  be  with  you.  I  '11  take 
the  risks,  and  if  any  of  your  enemies  ever  makes 
an  end  of  you,  as  you  say,  I  want  to  be  there  to 
wreak  vengeance.  You  know  I  can  shoot  as 
straight  as  any  man  alive,  whether  with  a  pistol 
or  a  rifle  or  a  shot-gun." 

"  You  dear  child !  "  he  responded,  "  I  know 
all  that.  And  that  is  why  I  want  to  house  you 
367 


EVELYN  BTRD 

safely.  You  have  it  in  you  to  be  as  reckless  as 
your  dad  is,  and  I  don't  intend  that  you  shall 
have  occasion  or  opportunity." 

How  I  did  love  my  father !  I  don't  believe 
he  was  ever  bad,  Dorothy,  though  they  said 
he  was.  People  who  liked  him  used  to  say  he 
was  "  uncommonly  quick  on  trigger  "  ;  people 
who  hated  him  called  him  a  desperado.  I  call 
him  my  father,  and  I  love  his  memory,  for  he 
is  dead  now,  as  you  will  hear  later. 

But  I  was  anxious  to  remember  all  that  he 
had  told  me,  and  to  make  no  mistake  about  it. 
I  had  taught  myself  how  to  write,  during  my 
stay  at  the  lumber-camp  and  on  Hudson's  Bay,  so 
I  got  some  old  blank  books  from  the  agency, 
books  which  had  been  partly  written  in  by  a 
clerk  who  made  his  lines  so  hairlike  that  I  could 
write  all  over  them  and  yet  make  my  writing 
quite  legible.  In  these  I  wrote  all  that  my 
father  had  said,  just  as  he  had  said  it,  meaning 
to  commit  it  to  memory  if  I  had  got  it  right. 
When  it  was  done,  I  took  it  to  him  and  he  read 
it.  He  la-.ighed  when  he  came  to  the  swear 
word,  and  said  :  — 

"  You  might  have  omitted  that.  Still,  I  'm 
glad  you  didn't,  because  it  shews  how  bravely 
368 


MORE   OF  EFELTN'S  BOOK 

truthful  you  are,  and  I  love  that  in  you  better 
than  anything  else." 

I  have  always  remembered  that,  Dorothy.  I 
don't  know  how  far  those  who  have  left  us 
know  what  we  do ;  but  I  always  think  that  if 
my  father  knows,  he  will  be  glad  to  have  me 
perfectly  truthful,  and  I  love  him  so  much  that 
I  would  make  any  sacrifice  to  make  him  glad. 

After  he  had  read  over  what  I  had  written, 
and  had  corrected  a  word  here  and  there,  I  set 
to  work  to  commit  it  to  memory,  so  that  I  should 
never  forget  a  line  or  a  word  of  it.  That  is  how 
it  comes  about  that  I  am  able  to  report  it  all  to 
you  exactly. 

Now  I  know  you  are  tired,  so  I  am  going  to 
begin  a  new  chapter,  and  you  can  rest  as  long 
as  you  like  before  reading  it. 


369 


XXVI 

EVELYN'S   BOOK,    CONTINUED 

IT  was  Dorothy's  habit  when  reading  a  book 
to  stop   for  an   hour  now  and  then,  and 
devote    that    space    to    careful    thinking. 
She  explained  her  practice  to  Arthur  one  day, 
saying :  — 

"  If  a  book  be  interesting,  it  is  apt  to  domi 
nate  the  mind,  and  sometimes  to  mislead  the 
judgment.  I  think  it  well  to  suspend  the  read 
ing  now  and  then,  and  give  myself  a  chance  to 
shake  off  the  glamour  of  the  narrative,  and  to 
think  out  for  myself  what  it  means  and  to  what 
it  tends.  One  must  do  that,  indeed,  if  one 
does  n't  want  to  surrender  himself  or  herself 
completely  to  the  dominance  of  an  author's 
thought,  but  chooses  instead  to  do  his  or  her 
own  thinking." 

So  Dorothy  took  an  hour  or  two  for  think 
ing  before  going  on  with  the  reading  of  Evelyn's 
book.      Evelyn   knew   her  habit,   and  she  had 
recognised  it  by  changing  chapters  at  this  point. 
370 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

When  Dorothy  took  up  the  pages  again,  she 
read  as  follows  :  — 


Chapter  the  Tenth 

\  T  7E  stayed  a  long  time  among  the  whaling 
people,  and  they  taught  me  many  things. 
I  learned  from  them  how  to  tie  all  sorts  of 
knots,  and  how  to  catch  sea  fish,  and  how  to 
row,  and  best  of  all,  how  to  sail  a  boat. 

They  were  a  curious  kind  of  men.  They 
swore  all  the  time,  in  almost  every  sentence. 
But  their  swearing  did  n't  mean  anything,  and 
so  it  did  n't  shock  me  in  the  least.  They  were 
not  at  all  angry  when  they  swore.  They  swore, 
I  think,  merely  because  they  had  n't  any  adjec 
tives  with  which  to  express  their  thoughts. 
They  called  me  a  "  damned  nice  gal,"  and  they 
meant  it  for  a  compliment.  In  the  same  way, 
they  spoke  of  a  tangle  in  a  fish-line  as  "a 
damned  ugly  snarl,"  or  of  a  fish  as  "  a  damned 
big  catch."  I  suppose  one  might  cure  them  of 
swearing  by  teaching  them  some  adjectives. 
But  nobody  ever  took  the  trouble  to  do  that. 

They  were  good  fellows  —  strong  and  brave, 
and  wonderfully  enduring.  When  I  went  out 
371 


EVELYN  BTRD 

fishing  with  them,  and  the  tide  was  out  on  our 
return,  so  that  we  could  n't  come  up  to  a  pier, 
one  of  them  would  jump  overboard  in  the  mud, 
pick  me  up,  swing  me  to  his  broad  shoulders, 
and  carry  me  ashore  dry-shod,  without  seeming 
to  think  anything  of  it. 

One  day  we  had  a  storm  while  I  was  out  in  a 
fishing-boat.  As  soon  as  it  came  on,  all  the  boats 
came  to  the  side  of  ours,  though  it  was  danger 
ous  to  do  so,  just  to  make  sure  of  my  safety. 
The  boat  I  was  in  was  swamped,  and  I  was 
spilled  overboard.  But  I  was  no  sooner  in  the 
angry  sea  than  I  was  grabbed  by  the  arms  of 
a  stout  young  fellow  who  gallantly  bore  me 
toward  a  little  sloop  that  lay  at  hand.  A  mast 
broke  off  and  fell.  It  hit  the  poor  fellow,  and, 
finding  himself  unable  to  do  any  more,  he  called 
to  a  comrade  to  take  me,  and  he  sank  in  the 
water  and  was  drowned.  He  did  n't  seem  to 
care  for  himself  at  all,  but  only  to  save  me,  and 
all  the  rest  of  them  seemed  to  think  that  that 
was  a  matter  of  course.  I  got  my  father  to 
give  me  some  money,  and  I  hired  a  stone-cutter 
to  put  up  a  monument  over  the  poor  fellow's 
grave ;  for  we  recovered  his  body,  with  both 
arms  broken  by  the  blow  from  the  falling  mast. 
372 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

There  are  lots  of  heroes,  Dorothy,  who  are 
never  engaged  in  wars. 

At  last  my  father  took  me  away  from  the 
whaling  town,  and  we  went  to  New  York  in  a 
little  schooner.  It  took  us  a  long  time,  because 
the  winds  were  adverse,  but  we  got  there  after 
a  while,  and  went  to  a  hotel.  It  was  the  Astor 
House,  I  think,  and  it  had  a  beautiful  little  park 
nearly  in  front  of  it.  I  don't  think  that  is  of 
any  consequence,  but,  you  see,  I  am  trying  to 
tell  you  everything.  You  can  skip  anything 
you  don't  care  for. 

["  I  'm  not  skipping  anything,"  wrote  Dorothy 
in  the  margin.] 

As  soon  as  we  were  settled  at  the  hotel,  my 
father  sent  for  the  gentlewoman  he  had  spoken 
about,  and  placed  me  in  her  care.  Then  some 
thing  happened  that  I  never  understood.  Be 
fore  my  father  could  take  the  papers  from  me 
and  place  them  in  the  hands  of  the  gentleman 
he  intended  to  leave  them  with,  he  was  some 
how  compelled  to  leave  the  city.  He  went 
away  suddenly  after  midnight,  and  I  never  saw 
him  again.  I  still  kept  the  papers  after  he  left 
New  York  so  suddenly. 

The  lady  was  greatly  excited  when  my  father's 
373 


E^ELTN  BTRD 

note  came  to  her,  saying  that  he  had  gone  away, 
and  she  seemed  to  fear  some  danger  for  me. 
So,  between  midnight  and  morning,  she  packed 
our  things,  and  we  went  to  a  boarding-house 
away  up-town.  Even  there  she  didn't  feel 
safe,  and  so,  within  a  day  or  so,  we  went  on 
board  a  canal  boat,  and  went  up  the  river,  and 
then  along  the  canal  for  many  days. 

I  asked  the  lady  (Mrs.  Dennison  was  her 
name)  why  we  hadn't  taken  a  railroad  train 
instead,  so  as  to  travel  faster.  She  answered : 
"  They  were  watching  all  the  trains,  dear,  and 
would  have  caught  you  if  we  had  tried  to  take 
one.  They  did  n't  think  of  canal  boats,  because 
nobody  travels  by  them  in  these  days." 

After  we  had  travelled  by  canal  boat  for  sev 
eral  days  (a  week  or  more,  I  think),  we  left  the 
boat  at  a  very  little  village,  and  went  away 
across  country  to  a  little  house  in  a  sparsely 
settled  district.  There  Mrs.  Dennison  and  I 
lived  quite  alone  for  more  than  a  year.  It  was 
a  very  happy  year,  except  that  I  could  n't  see 
my  father,  and  except  for  another  thing.  Mrs. 
Dennison  made  me  wear  a  boy's  clothes  and 
call  myself  by  a  false  name,  "  Charlie  Denni 
son."  She  did  that  to  prevent  Campbell  from 
374 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

finding  me.  I  suppose  it  really  didn't  matter 
much,  but  somehow  I  didn't  like  the  thought 
of  wearing  a  disguise  and  going  by  an  assumed 
name. 

Of  course,  as  a  boy,  I  could  n't  go  much  with 
the  few  girls  there  were  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  at  the  same  time,  being  in  fact  a  girl,  I 
couldn't  go  out  and  associate  with  the  boys. 
So  my  only  companion  was  Mrs.  Dennison. 
We  lived  together  in  a  tiny  bit  of  a  house  that 
belonged  to  her,  and  she  was  the  only  real 
teacher  I  ever  had.  I  reckon  she  did  n't  know 
much  about  books.  At  any  rate,  she  didn't 
care  about  them.  But  she  let  me  read  mine 
as  much  as  I  pleased,  and  she  taught  me  how 
to  do  all  sorts  of  household  things.  Especially 
she  taught  me  to  do  needlework,  and  as  I  used 
to  do  it  in  our  little  porch  in  the  summertime, 
the  boys  thought  it  strange  for  a  boy  to  use  a 
needle,  so  they  used  to  call  me  "  Miss  Char 
lotte"  and  gibe  and  jeer  at  me  a  good  deal. 
But  I  did  n't  mind,  particularly  as  there  was  a 
woodland  near  our  house,  so  that  I  could  see 
a  great  deal  of  my  birds  and  squirrels.  It  was 
then,  too,  that  I  made  acquaintance  with  many 
insects  and  bugs  —  pinch-bugs,  ants,  yellow- 
375 


EVELYN  BTRD 

jacket's,  and  a  lot  more.  You  can't  imagine 
how  greatly  interested  I  became  in  studying 
the  ways  of  these  creatures.  They  all  have 
characters  of  their  own ;  and  when  one  really 
becomes  acquainted  with  them,  they  are  vastly 
more  interestiug  than  commonplace  people  are. 

Chapter  the  Eleventh 

AFTER  we  had  lived  for  more  than  a  year 
in  the  little  cottage,  Mrs.  Dennison  one 
day  told  me  we  must  go  away  quickly,  and  we 
left  within  an  hour.  She  let  me  put  my  girl's 
clothes  on  before  we  started. 

"They  have  found  out  that  you  are  disguised 
as  a  boy,"  she  explained,  "and  when  they  set 
out  to  find  us  again,  they  '11  probably  look  for 
a  lady  and  a  boy.  So,  by  wearing  girl's  clothes 
again,  you  '11  have  a  better  chance  to  escape 
their  clutches." 

I  was  getting  to  be  a  pretty  big  girl  by  that 
time,  and  so  I  had  been  ashamed  of  wearing 
boy's  clothes  for  some  time  past.  But  when  I 
put  on  my  gowns  again,  they  made  me  still 
more  ashamed,  because  they  were  so  short. 

So,  as  soon  as  we  got  to  a  place  where  we 
376 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

could  stop  for  a  few  days,  Mrs.  Dennison  sent 
for  two  dressmakers  to  fashion  some  new  gowns 
for  me,  and  I  really  looked  quite  like  another 
person  when  I  put  them  on. 

That  must  have  been  about  four  years  ago. 
According  to  what  I  was  afterward  told,  I  was 
then  thirteen  years  old.  I  know  now  that  I 
was  fifteen.  But  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  that 
further  on. 

All  this  while,  Mrs.  Dennison  was  receiving 
money  from  my  father  at  regular  intervals,  and 
there  was  plenty  of  it.  But  it  never  came 
directly  from  my  father.  It  came  from  a  bank, 
with  a  very  formal  note  saying  that  the  money 
was  sent  "by  order  of  Mr.  Jackson  Byrd,"  and 
asking  Mrs.  Dennison  to  sign  and  return  a  re 
ceipt  for  it.  My  father  sent  us  no  letters  and 
no  messages.  This  troubled  me  very  much 
when  I  got  to  thinking  about  it.  And  that 
made  me  very  unhappy,  for  I  loved  my  father 
dearly,  and  I  remembered  how  happy  I  had  been 
with  him.  But  after  thinking  more  about  it,  I 
saw  that  he  had  n't  forgotten  his  little  girl  and 
had  n't  quit  caring  about  her,  because  if  he  had, 
the  money  wouldn't  have  come  so  regularly. 

Still,  that  troubled  me  more  than  ever,  because 
377 


EVELYN  BTRD 

it  must  mean  that  my  father  was  in  some  kind  of 
difficulty,  that  he  could  not  send  any  letters  to 
us.  I  learned  afterward  that  this  was  so,  but 
Mrs.  Dennison  would  never  tell  me  anything 
about  it. 

We  were  moving  about  a  good  deal  at  this 
time,  generally  starting  suddenly  —  sometimes 
so  suddenly  as  to  leave  many  of  our  things  be 
hind.  But  I  always  carried  the  little  satchel 
that  contained  the  papers  my  father  had  given 
me. 

At  last,  one  day  when  we  left  the  train  at  Chi 
cago  and  entered  a  carriage  to  drive  to  a  little 
hotel  that  we  were  to  live  at,  a  man  came  to  the 
carriage  door  and  handed  Mrs.  Dennison  a  paper. 
He  said  something  which  I  did  not  understand, 
and  Mrs.  Dennison  kissed  me  and  got  out  of 
the  carriage.  The  man  got  in,  and  ordered  the 
carriage  to  drive  away  with  us,  leaving  Mrs. 
Dennison  standing  there  on  the  sidewalk. 

I  was  terribly  scared,  and  wanted  to  jump 
out.  I  tried  to  open  the  doors,  but  the  man  had 
placed  his  hands  on  the  two  latches,  so  that  I 
could  n't  move  them.  I  felt  like  shrieking,  but 
I  decided  that  it  was  best  to  control  myself,  keep 
my  wits  about  me,  and  be  ready  to  deal  with 
378 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

the  situation  wisely,  as  soon  as  I  should  find  out 
what  it  really  was.  So,  summoning  all  my  self- 
control,  I  entered  into  conversation  with  the  man 
who  sat  on  the  front  seat  opposite  me. 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me,"  I  asked,  "  why  you 
have  kidnapped  me  in  this  fashion  ?  " 

"  It  ain't  kidnapping,  young  lady,  an'  it  ain't 
anything  else  irregular.  You  see,  I  had  a  war 
rant.  I  'm  a  court  officer,  an'  I  does  what  the 
court  orders  an'  nothin'  else." 

"  Then  a  court  ordered  you  to  seize  me  ? " 
I  asked. 

"  Ya'as  'm,"  he  answered. 

"  But  on  what  ground  ?  " 

"  'T  ain't  my  business  to  know  that,  Miss,  an' 
as  a  matter  of  fac'  I  don't  know  it.  All  I  know 
is,  I  was  give  a  warrant  an'  tole  to  serve  it,  an" 
bring  you  to  the  court.  Don't  you  worry  about 
a-payin'  of  the  cabman.  I  '11  ten'  to  all  that." 

"  But  what  do  they  want  with  me  in  court  ? " 
I  asked  insistently. 

"Dunno,  Miss." 

"  But  who  is  it  that  wants  me  ?  " 

"  Dunno,  Miss,  only  the  warrant  head  said, 
'  Campbell  vee  ess  Byrd  and  Dennison.'  " 

"  But  what  right  have  they  to  bother  me  in 
379 


EVELYN  BTRD 

this  way?  Am  I  not  a  free  person  ?  Have  n't  I 
a  right  —  " 

"  Dunno,  Miss,  't  ain't  my  business  to  know. 
But  I  suppose  you  're  a  gal  under  age,  and  I 
suppose  gals  under  age  ain't  got  no  rights  in 
pertic'lar,  leastways  in  opposition  to  their  gar- 
deens." 

By  this  time,  we  had  arrived  at  the  court 
house,  and  I  was  taken  before  the  judge.  I  re 
member  thinking  that  if  I  should  displease  him 
in  any  way,  he  could  order  me  hanged.  I  know 
better  now,  but  I  thought  so  then  ;  so  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  be  very  nice  to  the  judge. 

Campbell  was  there,  and  he  had  a  lawyer  with 
him.  The  lawyer  told  the  judge  that  Campbell 
was  —  something  in  Latin  —  locoparentis,  I  think 
it  was.  Anyhow,  it  meant  stepfather,  or  some 
thing  like  that.  He  said  the  courts  in  his  State 
had  made  him  my  guardian ;  that  I  possessed 
valuable  property;  that  I  had  been  abducted 
by  my  father,  who  was  a  dissolute  person,  now 
serving  out  a  sentence  in  the  State's  prison 
for  some  crime.  He  gave  the  judge  a  lot  of 
papers  to  prove  all  this. 

I  was  so  shocked  and  distressed  to  hear 
that  my  father  was  in  prison,  that  for  a  while 
380 


EVELYN'S   BOOK,    CONTINUED 

I  could  n't  speak.     At  last  I  controlled  myself 
and  said  to  the  judge  :  — 

"  I  love  my  father.  If  he  has  been  sent  to 
prison,  it  was  that  man  "  —  pointing  to  Campbell 
—  "  who  got  him  sent  there.  My  father  is  good 
and  kind,  and  I  love  him.  Campbell  is  wicked 
and  cruel,  and  I  hate  him.  Look  at  his  flat 
nose!  That 's  where  I  smashed  it  with  a  heavy 
hair-brush  when  he  tried  to  whip  me  for  telling 
the  truth  about  him.  I  don't  want  to  go  with 
him.  I  want  to  go  back  to  Mrs.  Dennison,  till 
my  father  can  come  after  me.  Please,  Judge, 
let  me  do  that." 

The  judge  asked  Campbell's  lawyer  how  old 
I  was,  and  he  answered  :  — 

"Thirteen  years  old,  your  Honour." 

Then  the  judge  said  :  — 

"  She  seems  older.  If  she  were  fourteen,  I 
should  be  bound  by  the  law  to  let  her  choose 
her  own  guardian  for  so  long  at  least  as  she 
shall  remain  in  Illinois.  But  as  the  papers  in 
the  case  seem  to  show  that  her  age  is  only  thir 
teen,  I  am  bound  to  recognise  the  guardianship 
established  by  the  courts  of  another  State.  I 
must  remand  the  girl  to  the  custody  of  her 
guardian,  Mr.  Campbell." 
381 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Then,  seeing  in  how  desperate  a  strait  I  was, 
I  summoned  all  my  courage.  I  rose  to  my  feet 
and  faced  the  judge.  I  said  :  — 

"  But,  please,  Mr.  Judge,  this  is  n't  fair.  That 
man  Campbell  hates  me,  and  I  hate  him.  Isn't 
it  better  to  send  me  to  somebody  else  ?  Besides 
that,  he  has  a  lawyer,  and  I  haven't  one.  Can't 
I  hire  a  lawyer  to  speak  for  me  ?  I  've  got  two 
dollars  in  my  pocketbook  to  pay  him  with." 

Everybody  laughed  when  I  said  that.  You 
see,  I  had  no  idea  what  the  price  of  lawyers 
was.  But  just  then  an  old  gentleman  arose  and 
said  to  the  judge  :  — 

"  If  it  please  the  court,  I  will  appear  as  coun 
sel  for  this  persecuted  girl.  I  have  listened  to 
these  proceedings  with  indignation  and  horror. 
It  is  perfectly  clear  to  my  mind  that  this  is  a 
case  of  kidnapping  under  the  forms  of  the  law." 

There  the  judge  interrupted  him,  saying:  — 

"  The  court  will  permit  no  reflections  upon  its 
proceedings." 

Then  my  lawyer  answered  :  — 

"  I  have  cast  no  reflections  upon  the  court. 

My  challenge  is  to  the  integrity  and  good  faith 

of  this  man,  Campbell.    I  do  not  know  the  facts 

that  lie  behind  this  proceeding.     I  am  going  to 

382 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONTINUED 

ask  the  court  for  an  adjournment,  in  order  t« 
find  them  out.  It  is  obvious  that  this  young 
girl  —  helpless  and  friendless  here  —  looks  not 
only  unwillingly,  but  with  positive  horror,  upon 
the  prospect  of  being  placed  again  in  Camp 
bell's  charge.  Morally,  and  I  think  legally,  she 
has  a  right  to  be  heard  in  that  behalf,  to  have 
the  facts  competently  explored  and  fully  pre 
sented  to  the  court.  To  that  end,  I  ask  that 
the  matter  be  adjourned  for  one  week,  and  that 
the  young  girl  be  paroled,  in  the  meanwhile, 
in  the  custody  of  her  counsel." 

Then  the  dear  old  gentleman,  whom  every 
body  seemed  to  regard  with  special  reverence, 
took  his  seat  by  my  side,  and  held  my  hand  in 
his.  Campbell's  lawyer  made  a  speech  to  the 
judge,  and  when  he  had  finished,  the  judge  said 
that  my  lawyer's  request  was  denied.  He  ex 
plained  the  matter  in  a  way  that  I  did  not  under 
stand.  It  seemed  to  anger  the  old  lawyer  who 
had  taken  my  case.  He  rose  and  said,  as  nearly 
as  I  can  remember  :  — 

"  Your   Honour's   denial   of  my  motion  is  a 

denial  of  justice.     This  young  girl,  my  client,  is 

a  minor  child,  utterly  defenceless  here  except 

in  so  far  as  I  have  volunteered  my  services  to 

383 


EVELYN  BTRD 

defend  her.  But  she  is  an  American  citizen,  and 
as  such  is  entitled  to  be  heard  in  her  own  behalf. 
In  this  court  she  cannot  get  a  hearing,  for  the 
reason  that  this  court  has  corruptly  prejudged 
the  case,  as  it  corruptly  prejudges  every  case 
in  which  money  or  influence  can  be  brought  to 
bear." 

By  this  time  the  judge  was  pounding  with  his 
mallet,  and  the  whole  court-room  was  in  an  up 
roar.  But,  raising  his  voice,  my  dear  old  lawyer 
continued  :  — 

"  If  justice  were  done,  you,  sir,  would  be 
dragged  from  the  bench  that  you  dishonour  by 
sitting  upon  it.  Oh,  I  know,  you  can  send  me 
to  jail  for  speaking  these  truths  in  your  pres 
ence.  I  trust  you  will  try  that.  If,  by  any 
martyrdom  of  mine,  I  can  bring  the  corruption 
of  such  judges  as  you  are  to  the  knowledge  and 
attention  of  this  community,  I  shall  feel  that  my 
work  is  well  done.  In  the  meantime  I  shall  set 
another  to  secure  for  this  helpless  girl  a  writ 
of  habeas  corpus  which  shall  get  for  her,  in 
another  and  more  righteous  court,  the  fair  hear 
ing  which  you  insolently  and  criminally  deny  to 
her  here.  Now  send  me  to  jail  in  punishment 
of  the  immeasurable  contempt  I  feel  for  a  court 
334 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONTINUED 

where  justice  is  betrayed  for  money,  and  where 
human  rights  are  bartered  away  for  a  price." 

The  judge  was  very  angry,  and  a  lot  of  men 
surrounded  my  old  lawyer.  But  what  happened 
afterward  I  have  never  known.  For  no  sooner 
was  I  put  in  Campbell's  charge  than  I  was  hur 
ried  to  a  train,  and  the  next  morning  I  heard 
him  say  to  one  of  the  men  he  had  with  him  :  — 

"We  are  out  of  Illinois  now;  we've  beaten 
that  writ  of  habeas  corpus." 

Then  he  turned  to  me  and  said :  — 

"  If  you  care  for  your  own  comfort,  you  will 
recognise  me  as  your  guardian,  and  behave 
yourself  accordingly." 

I  reckon  you  must  be  tired  reading  by  this 
time,  Dorothy,  so  you  are  to  take  a  rest  here, 
and  I  '11  write  the  remainder  of  my  story  in  other 
chapters.  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  making  my  story  tedi 
ous  ;  but  I  've  fully  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  it 
all,  because  I  don't  know  what  you  will  care  for 
in  it,  and  what  will  seem  unimportant  to  you. 
If  I  try  to  shorten  it  by  leaving  out  anything,  the 
thing  I  leave  out  may  happen  to  be  precisely  the 
thing  that  would  change  your  opinion  of  me.  I 
want  to  deal  absolutely  honestly  with  you ;  so 
I  am  telling  you  everything  I  remember. 
385 


XXVII 

KILGARIFF'S    PERPLEXITY 

DURING  the  two  days  that  Dorothy  had 
thus  far  given  to  the  reading  of  Eve 
lyn's  book,  Kilgariff  had  been  chafing 
impatiently.  He  wanted  to  go  back  to  Peters 
burg  and  active  duty,  and  he  wanted,  before 
doing  so,  to  ride  over  to  Branton  and  "talk  it 
out  with  Evelyn,"  as  he  formulated  his  thoughts 
in  his  own  mind. 

He  could  do  neither,  for  the  reason  that  his 
wound  began  to  trouble  him  again,  and  Arthur 
Brent,  upon  examining  it,  condemned  him  to 
spend  another  week  or  ten  days  in  the  house. 

So  far  as  "talking  it  out  with  Evelyn"  was 
concerned,  it  was  perhaps  fortunate  that  he  was 
compelled  to  submit  to  an  enforced  delay.  For 
he  really  did  not  know  what  he  was  to  say  to 
Evelyn ;  and  the  more  he  thought  about  the 
matter,  the  more  he  did  not  know. 

The  question  was  indeed  a  very  perplexing 
386 


KILGARIFF'S  PERPLEXITY 

one.  How  should  he  even  begin  the  proposed 
conversation  ?  Should  he  begin  by  abruptly 
telling  Evelyn  that  he  loved  her,  but  that  there 
were  reasons  why  he  did  not  want  her  to  give 
him  love  in  return  ?  That  was  not  the  way  in 
which  a  woman  had  a  right  to  expect  to  be 
wooed.  It  would  be  a  direct  affront  to  her 
womanly  and  maidenly  pride,  which  she  would 
promptly,  and  bitterly,  and  quite  properly,  re 
sent.  Moreover,  by  arousing  her  anger  and 
resentment,  it  would  utterly  defeat  his  pur 
pose,  which  was  to  find  out  his  own  duty  by 
finding  out  how  far  Evelyn  had  already  learned 
to  think  of  him  as  a  possible  lover. 

Should  he,  then,  ask  her  that  question,  in 
her  own  singularly  direct  and  truthful  way  of 
dealing  ? 

That  would  be  to  affront  and  wound  her  by 
the  assumption  that  she  had  given  her  love 
unasked. 

Should  he  begin  by  explaining  to  her  the 
circumstances  which  prompted  him  to  shrink 
from  wooing  her,  and  then  offer  her  his  love 
if  she  wanted  it  ? 

Nothing  could  be  more  preposterous  than  that. 

Should  he  simply  pay  her  his  addresses,  ask 
387 


EVELYN  BTRD 

her  for  her  love,  and  then,  if  she  should  give  it, 
proceed  to  explain  to  her  the  reasons  why  she 
should  not  have  permitted  herself  to  love  such 
a  man  as  he  ? 

That  question  also  promptly  answered  itself  in 
the  negative,  with  emphasis. 

What,  then,  should  he  do  ? 

Clearly  it  would  be  better  to  await  Evelyn's 
return  to  Wyanoke,  and  trust  to  good  luck  to 
open  some  possible  way.  At  any  rate,  he  might 
there  approach  the  subject  in  indirect  ways; 
while  if  he  could  have  ridden  over  to  Branton 
for  the  express  purpose  of  having  a  conference 
with  her,  no  such  indirection  would  have  been 
possible.  His  very  going  to  her  there  would 
have  been  a  declaration  of  some  purpose  which 
he  must  promptly  explain. 

Obviously,  therefore,  it  was  better  that  he 
should  not  go  to  Branton,  but  should  await 
such  opportunity  as  good  fortune  might  give 
him  after  Evelyn's  return  to  Wyanoke.  But 
that  necessity  postponed  the  outcome,  and  Kil- 
gariff  was  in  a  mood  to  be  impatient  of  delay, 
particularly  as  every  hour  consciously  intensified 
his  own  love,  and  rendered  him  less  and  less 
capable  of  saying  nay  to  his  passion. 
388 


KILGARIFF'S  PERPLEXITY 

With  her  woman's  quickness  of  perception, 
Dorothy  shrewdly  guessed  what  was  going  on 
in  his  mind,  and  she  rejoiced  in  it.  But  she 
made  no  reference  to  the  matter,  even  in  the 
most  remotely  indirect  way.  She  simply  went 
about  her  tasks  with  a  pleased  and  amused  smile 
on  her  face. 


389 


XXVIII 

EVELYN'S    BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

WHEN     Dorothy    took    up    Evelyn's 
manuscript  again,  it  was  nine  o'clock 
in  the  evening  of  the  second  day, 
and,  moved  by  her  eagerness  to  follow  the  story, 
even  more  than  by  her  conscientious  desire  to 
finish  it  before  the  author's  return  on  the  mor 
row,  she  read  late  into  the  night.     But  she  had 
sent  Evelyn   a   note   in  the  late  afternoon,   in 
which  she  had  written  :  — 

My  Evelyn  is  not  to  fail  in  her  promise  to  come 
back  to  me  to-morrow.  I  have  not  yet  completed  the 
reading  of  the  manuscript,  though  I  hope  to  do  so 
to-night,  if  a  late  vigil  shall  enable  me  to  accomplish 
that  purpose.  I  have  asked  Arthur  to  let  me  sleep  in 
the  nursery  to-night,  if  I  finish  the  reading  in  time  to 
sleep  at  all.  So  I  can  sit  up  as  late  as  I  please  without 
fear  of  disturbing  him.  Poor  fellow,  he  is  working  too 
hard  and  thinking  too  hard  even  for  his  magnificent 
strength. 

390 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

But  whether  I  finish  your  manuscript  to-night  or 
not,  Evelyn  dear,  I  have  read  enough  of  it  to  know 
that  your  life-story  only  confirms  the  judgment  I  had 
formed  of  your  character,  and  draws  you  nearer  to  my 
sympathies.  So  come  home  in  the  morning,  and  don't 
disappoint  me. 

When  she  took  up  the  manuscript  again,  this 
is  what  she  read  :  — 

Chapter  the  Twelfth 

T  T  7E  travelled  by  the  railroad  as  far  as  it 
went.  Then  we  had  to  get  into  a  big 
wagon,  drawn  by  six  mules. 

The  country  we  passed  through  was  wild,  and 
quite  uninhabited,  I  think.  At  any  rate,  we  saw 
no  houses,  and  no  people  except  now  and  then 
a  little  party  of  Indians.  There  were  no  roads, 
only  dim  trails,  and  there  were  no  bridges,  so 
that  it  sometimes  took  us  three  or  four  days  to 
get  across  a  river. 

We  carried  all  our  provisions  in  the  wagon, 
and  when  we  stopped  for  the  night  we  cooked 
our  suppers  by  great  big  fires,  built  out  of  doors. 
It  was  usually  about  nightfall  when  we  pitched 
our  camp,  and  so  long  as  our  way  lay  through 
the  woods,  I  used  to  lie  awake  for  hours  every 
391 


EVELYN  BTRD 

night,  looking  up  and  watching  the  light  from 
the  camp-fire  as  it  played  hide  and  seek  among 
the  great  trees.  When  at  last  we  got  out  of  the 
woods  and  began  travelling  over  a  vast  prairie, 
the  camping  was  far  less  pleasant,  particularly 
when  a  norther  blew,  making  it  bitter  cold. 
Still,  I  insisted  on  sleeping  out  of  doors,  although 
Campbell  had  fitted  up  a  cosy  little  bedroom  for 
me  in  the  big  wagon.  That  was  because  it  was 
Campbell's  wagon.  Out  of  doors  I  felt  a  sort  of 
freedom,  while  if  I  even  looked  into  the  wagon 
I  realised  that  I  was  that  man's  prisoner. 

He  was  trying  to  be  good  to  me  then.  That 
is  to  say,  he  was  trying  to  make  me  think  him 
kind  and  to  make  me  like  him.  Among  other 
things,  he  gave  me  a  horse  to  ride  on.  He  had 
intended  at  first  that  I  should  travel  in  the 
wagon,  but  I  would  not  do  that.  I  preferred 
to  walk,  instead.  So,  after  the  second  day, 
when  we  met  a  party  of  Indians,  he  bought  a 
horse  of  them  and  gave  it  to  me  to  ride.  It  was 
a  vicious  brute,  bent  upon  breaking  my  neck, 
but  I  knew  how  to  ride,  and  within  a  day  or 
two  I  had  taught  the  animal  to  like  me  a  little, 
and  to  obey  me  altogether.  I  had  no  saddle, 
of  course,  but  I  never  did  like  a  saddle,  and  I 
392 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

don't,  even  now,  as  you  know.  So  I  got  one  of 
the  men  to  strap  a  blanket  on  my  horse's  back 
with  a  surcingle,  and  I  rode  upon  that. 

The  men  who  drove  our  mules  were  very 
rough  fellows,  but  they  soon  got  to  liking  me. 
I  suppose  that  was  because  I  knew  how  to  ride 
and  wasn't  afraid  of  anything.  However  that 
may  be,  they  seemed  to  like  me.  They  would 
do  their  best  to  make  me  comfortable,  giving  me 
the  best  they  could  get  to  eat  —  birds,  squirrels, 
and  the  like  —  and  always  making  for  me  a 
pallet  of  dry  grass  or  leaves  to  sleep  upon. 

Finally,  one  evening,  when  Campbell  had 
gone  away  from  the  camp  for  some  purpose  or 
other,  one  of  the  rough  men  came  to  me  and 
said :  — 

"Little  Missy"  —  that  is  what  they  always 
called  me  —  "  little  Missy,  you  don't  like  Camp 
bell  an'  you  want  to  get  away  from  him.  Now 
he 's  pretty  quick  on  trigger,  but  I  'm  a  bit 
quicker  'n  he  is,  an'  anyhow  I  '11  take  the 
chances  for  you.  Ef  you  say  the  word,  I  '11 
pick  a  quarrel  with  him  an'  kill  him  in  fair 
fight.  Then  my  pards  an'  me '11  take  you  to 
some  civilised  town  an'  leave  you  there,  so  's 
you  kin  git  back  to  your  friends.  Only  say  the 
393 


EVELYN  BTRD 

word,  an'  I  '11  git  him  ready  for  his  funeral  afore 
mornin'." 

Of  course  this  horrified  me,  particularly  the 
indifference  with  which  the  man  thought  of 
murder.  I  told  him  he  must  never  think  of 
doing  anything  of  the  kind,  and  asked  him  to 
promise  me. 

"It's  jest  as  you  says,  little  Missy,"  he  an 
swered.  "Only  me  an'  my  pards  wants  you  to 
know  how  ready  we  are  to  do  you  any  little 
favour  like  that  ef  you  want  it  done." 

That  night  I  couldn't  sleep.  I  lay  all  night 
looking  up  at  the  stars  and  thinking  with  horror 
of  the  light  way  in  which  this  man  had  proposed 
to  commit  a  murder  for  me.  Then  the  thought 
came  to  me  that  I  had  myself  tried  to  kill 
Campbell  once  with  a  hair-brush,  and  for  a  while 
I  felt'  that  after  all  I  was  no  better  than  these 
murderous  men.  But,  after  thinking  the  thing 
out,  I  saw  that  the  two  cases  were  quite  differ 
ent.  I  had  hit  Campbell  in  self-defence,  and  I 
could  not  even  yet  feel  sorry  that  I  had  wanted 
to  kill  him. 


394 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

Chapter  the  Thirteenth 

CAMPBELL  was  living,  at  that  time,  in  a 
^-^  little  town  somewhere  in  Texas,  and  we 
got  there  after  two  or  three  weeks. 

It  was  a  dismal-looking  place.  All  the  houses 
were  built  of  rough  boards,  set  upon  end,  and 
most  of  them  were  saloons.  Campbell's  house 
was  like  all  the  rest,  and  when  I  asked  my 
mother  why  he  lived  in  so  small  a  house,  and 
what  he  had  done  with  the  fine  one  that  I 
remembered,  she  told  me  he  had  lost  most  of 
his  money. 

Almost  immediately  after  I  got  to  his  house, 
Campbell  took  me  before  a  sort  of  judge  who 
had  two  pistols  and  a  knife  in  his  belt.  Camp 
bell  told  the  judge  that  he  wanted  to  adopt  me 
as  his  daughter.  When  the  judge  asked  him 
how  old  I  was,  he  said  I  was  thirteen,  and  then 
the  judge  said  that  my  consent  to  his  adoption 
of  me  was  not  necessary. 

The  reason  he  said  that  was  because  I  had  told 
him  that  I  did  n't  want  to  be  Campbell's  daughter. 
The  judge  signed  the  papers,  and  told  me  that 
Campbell  was  my  father  now,  and  that  I  must 
obey  him  in  everything.  Campbell  told  me  that 
395 


EVELTN  BTRD 

my  name  would  hereafter  be  Evelyn  Byrd 
Campbell.  I  supposed  then  that  he  was  telling 
the  truth. 

When  he  got  home  that  evening,  he  had  been 
drinking  heavily,  and  he  seemed  particularly 
happy.  He  told  my  mother  that  he  had  "  fixed 
things,"  so  that  they  wouldn't  be  poor  any 
longer.  He  said  he  was  going  to  buy  a  big  ranch 
and  raise  horses. 

That  night  when  I  went  to  my  bed,  I  found  that 
somebody  had  broken  into  my  closet  and  taken 
the  satchel  in  which  I  kept  my  papers.  When 
I  raised  an  alarm,  Campbell  told  me  he  had  taken 
the  papers  and  put  them  in  a  secure  place,  lest 
I  should  lose  them.  He  said  he  was  my  father 
now,  and  that  it  was  his  duty  to  take  care  of  my 
property. 

I  was  terribly  angry  —  so  angry  that  if  the 
teamster  who  had  offered  to  kill  Campbell  for 
me  had  been  there,  I  think  I  should  have  asked 
him  to  get  my  papers  for  me,  although  I  knew 
that  he  would  probably  kill  Campbell  in  doing 
so.  But  the  teamster  was  gone  from  the  town, 
and  I  was  helpless. 

Campbell  and  my  mother  did  not  get  on 
together  very  well  at  this  time.  They  never 
396 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONCLUDED 

exactly  quarrelled,  at  least  in  my  presence,  but 
I  think  that  was  because  my  mother  regarded 
quarrelling  as  vulgar.  She  was  a  refined  woman, 
or  had  been.  She  seemed  now  to  be  very  un 
happy,  and  I  was  sorry  for  her,  though  I  could 
not  love  her?  I  never  had  loved  her  since  she 
had  married  Campbell  while  her  real  husband, 
my  father,  was  still  living.  One  day  I  asked  her 
if  she  didn't  think  she  had  made  a  mistake  in 
doing  that,  and  if  she  did  n't  think  it  wrong  and 
wicked  and  vulgar  for  a  woman  to  have  two 
husbands  alive  at  the  same  time.  She  rebuked 
me  severely  for  what  she  called  my  insolence, 
and  bade  me  never  mention  that  subject  again. 
I  never  did  —  to  her. 

Chapter  the  Fourteenth 

T  7ERY  soon  after  this,  Campbell  bought  a 

*      large  ranch,  as  he  said  he  would  do,  and  we 

moved  away  from  the  town  to  live  on  the  ranch. 

I    know    now   that   he    bought   it   with    my 

money.     When  he  had  me  made  his  daughter, 

and  got  hold  of  my  papers,  the  law  somehow 

allowed  him  to  sell  the  stocks  and  bonds  my 

father  had  given  me,  and  he  did  so.     I  never 

knew  this  until  a  very  little  time  ago  —  since  I 

397 


EVELYN  BTRD 

have  been  at  Wyanoke.  I  '11  tell  you  about  that 
in  the  proper  place. 

There  were  many  horses  on  the  ranch,  and  I 
spent  nearly  all  my  time  riding  them  bareback 
and  teaching  them  little  tricks.  It  was  the  only 
thing  I  could  do  to  amuse  myself ;  for  I  did  not 
like  to  be  with  my  mother,  and  I  hated  the  very 
sight  of  Campbell. 

I  had  already  learned  to  ride  standing  on  the 
back  of  a  horse,  and  I  decided  to  learn  all  about 
that  sort  of  riding.  I  enjoyed  the  danger  in 
volved  in  it,  for  one  thing,  especially  when  I 
learned  to  ride  two  horses  at  once  in  that  way. 
But  I  did  not  practise  these  things  for  the  sake 
of  the  excitement  alone.  I  had  a  plan  to  carry 
out.  I  had  determined  to  run  away  with  the 
first  circus  that  should  come  to  that  part  of  the 
country.  I  thought  that  if  I  could  learn  to  be 
a  really  good  bareback  rider,  the  circus  people 
would  be  glad  to  take  me  with  them,  and  in 
that  way  I  should  get  away  from  Campbell. 

So  I  practised  my  riding  every  day,  growing 
steadily  surer  of  myself  and  more  expert.  I 
practised  jumping  through  hoops,  too  —  for 
ward  and  backward  —  and  standing  on  my 
hands  on  horseback,  and  throwing  somersaults. 
398 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

At  last  a  circus  came  to  the  town  twelve 
miles  from  the  ranch,  and  Campbell  offered  to 
take  me  to  see  it.  He  was  in  one  of  his  placa- 
tive  moods  just  then,  and  thought  he  would 
please  me  by  this.  But  I  declined  the  invita 
tion.  I  did  that  because  I  meant  to  run  away 
and  join  that  circus,  and  I  wanted  him  to  think 
I  cared  nothing  about  a  circus,  so  that  he 
should  n't  look  for  me  among  the  show  people. 
I  still  had  the  horse  he  had  bought  from  the 
Indians  and  given  to  me,  so  that  I  could  take 
that  without  being  accused  of  horse-stealing. 
The  horse  was  a  tough,  wiry  fellow,  who  liked 
nothing  so  much  as  to  run  with  all  his  might. 
I  think  he  could  have  travelled  at  half-speed  for 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  without  growing  tired. 

One  night,  while  the  circus  was  in  the  town, 
I  mounted  my  horse  just  after  dark  and  set  off 
for  a  ride.  As  I  often  rode  for  half  the  night, 
I  knew  Campbell  would  think  nothing  of  my 
doing  this.  As  soon  as  I  was  well  away  from 
the  house,  I  turned  into  the  road  that  led  to 
the  town,  and  put  my  horse —  Little  Chief  —  at 
a  rapid  gallop.  Within  less  than  two  hours,  I 
reached  the  town.  Just  before  getting  there,  I 
turned  Little  Chief  loose,  set  his  head  toward 
399 


EVELYN  BTRD 

the  ranch,  and  bade  him  "  scamper."  I  had 
taught  him  always  to  go  to  his  stable  as  quickly 
as  possible  when  I  said  that  word  "  scamper  " 
to  him.  This  time  I  had  removed  the  blanket 
from  his  back  and  the  bridle  from  his  head. 
I  knew,  therefore,  he  would  be  found  in  his 
stall  next  morning  with  nothing  on  him  to  show 
that  he  had  been  ridden. 

As  soon  as  Little  Chief  had  started  on  his 
scamper,  I  turned  and  walked  into  the  town. 
The  circus  performance  was  not  quite  over,  so 
I  went  to  the  door  of  the  big  tent  and  told  the 
man  there  that  I  wanted  to  see  the  proprietor 
of  the  show  on  important  business.  I  had  n't 
a  cent  of  money,  so  I  did  n't  expect  to  go  in. 
But  the  man  at  the  door  politely  invited  me  to 
enter  and  see  the  end  of  the  show.  For  a  mo 
ment  I  thought  of  accepting  his  invitation,  but 
then  I  remembered  that  all  the  ranch-men  for 
twenty  miles  round  would  be  there,  and  that 
they  all  knew  me  by  sight  as  "that  wild  gal  of 
Campbell's."  I  did  n't  want  any  of  them  to  see 
me  at  the  circus,  lest  they  should  tell  of  it  when 
the  search  for  me  began.  So  I  told  the  man 
that  I  would  not  go  in,  and  asked  him  where 
and  how  I  could  see  the  owner  of  the  show 
400 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

after  the  performance.  He  called  a  man  and 
told  him  to  take  me  to  "  the  Lady  Superior,  in 
the  dressing-tent."  I  found  out  presently  that 
all  the  people  in  the  circus  called  the  manager's 
wife  by  that  name,  and  the  manager  they  called 
"the  Grand  Panjandrum."  In  fact,  they  had 
a  nickname  of  some  sort  for  every  one  in 
authority. 

The  Lady  Superior  received  me  as  a  queen 
might.  She  had  just  been  riding  around  the 
ring  in  a  red  and  gold  chariot  drawn  by  six 
white  horses,  and  playing  Cleopatra  in  what 
they  called  "the  magnificent  and  gorgeous  his 
torical  panorama  of  human  splendour."  As 
Cleopatra,  Napoleon,  Alexander  the  Great, 
George  Washington,  Genghis  Khan,  Julius 
Caesar,  and  a  great  many  others  took  part  in 
the  spectacle,  the  people  in  the  audience  must 
have  got  their  notions  of  history  considerably 
mixed  up,  but  at  any  rate  the  Lady  Superior 
always  seemed  to  enjoy  her  part,  and  particu 
larly  her  gorgeous  raiment.  I  had  a  hard  time 
trying  not  to  laugh  in  her  face  when  I  was  first 
presented  to  her  on  that  night.  She  was  still 
dressed  in  her  robe  of  naming,  high-coloured 
silk,  trimmed  with  ermine  and  spangles,  with 
401 


EVELYN  BTRD 

her  crown  still  on  her  head,  and  she  was  almost 
greedily  eating  a  dish  of  beef  a  la  mode  with 
roast  onions.  But  in  spite  of  her  gorgeous 
apparel  and  her  defective  grammar,  she  proved 
to  be  a  good-natured  creature,  and  she  received 
me  very  kindly. 

I  told  her  what  I  could  do  as  a  bareback  rider, 
and  she  took  me  to  her  hotel  in  her  carriage  as 
soon  as  she  had  put  on  some  plain  clothes.  I 
told  her  that  I  did  n't  want  anybody  in  that 
town  to  see  me,  so  she  drove  up  to  a  back  door 
of  the  little  tavern  and  smuggled  me  into  her 
room.  I  remember  that  the  tavern  was  a  little 
two-story,  wooden  building,  with  the  inside  par 
tition  walls  made  of  rough  boards  set  on  end  so 
loosely  that  one  could  see  through  the  cracks 
into  the  next  room.  But  it  was  called  the  Trans 
continental  Hotel,  and  the  painter  had  found 
some  difficulty  in  getting  the  big  name  into  one 
line  across  the  narrow  front  of  the  building. 

In  her  room  the  Lady  Superior  gave  me  some 
supper,  she  eating  with  me  as  heartily  as  if  she 
had  not  had  a  dish  of  beef  a  la  mode  with  roast 
onions  less  than  half  an  hour  before.  She  ex 
plained  to  me  that  the  circus  people  never  take 
their  supper  till  after  the  performance. 
402 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

"  It  makes  'em  lazy  and  not  up  to  their  work," 
she  said. 

When  her  husband,  the  Grand  Panjandrum, 
came  in,  she  introduced  me  to  him  and  told  him 
about  my  accomplishments. 

He  slapped  his  thigh  with  his  palm  and  ex 
claimed  :  — 

"  That 's  superb  !  We  Ve  just  lost  Mademoi 
selle  Fifine,  our  '  matchless  female  equestrienne,' 
and  as  we  have  advertised  her  everywhere,  the 
audiences  are  threatening  to  shoot  me  every 
time  I  go  into  the  ring  as  clown.  You  see, 
audiences  don't  like  to  be  disappointed.  I  '11 
let  you  show  me  your  paces  in  the  morning, 
and  if  you  can  do  the  stunts,  I  shall  engage 
you,  and  you  shall  appear  as  Mademoiselle  Fi- 
fine  to-morrow  afternoon  and  evening." 

I  objected  that  I  must  n't  be  seen  in  that  town, 
lest  I  be  recognised,  whereupon  he  broke  into 
a  laugh  and  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Recognised !  Why,  your  own  mother  won't 
know  you  when  the  dresser  gets  you  into 
Mademoiselle  Fifine's  finery,  and  daubs  your 
face  with  grease  paint,  and  plasters  it  with  pow 
der.  Bridget's  clothes  will  just  fit  you." 

"  Who  is  Bridget  ?  "  I  asked,  as  I  had  not 
403 


EVELYN  BTRD 

heard  of  that  person  before.  The  manager 
laughed,  and  answered  :  — 

"  Bridget  ?  Why,  she  was  Mademoiselle  Fi- 
fine,  you  know.  She  was  n't  well  up  to  the  busi 
ness,  but  she  was  plucky  and  took  risks,  so  she; 
got  a  very  bad  fall  that  broke  her  up,  and  she 
had  to  quit  and  go  to  a  hospital.  She  was  a 
good  girl,  and  I  am  paying  her  expenses.  If 
she  don't  die  of  her  injuries,  I  '11  pay  her  board 
somewhere  as  long  as  she  lives.  For  she  will 
never  ride  again." 

Then  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to  the  Grand 
Panjandrum. 

"Tell  you  what,  Sis,"  he  said.  "Why  can't 
we  drive  down  to  the  tent,  and  you  let  me  see 
you  ride  a  little  to-night  ?  You  see,  it  will  be  a 
sort  of  life  insurance  to  me ;  for  if  we  give  the 
show  again  without  Fifine  in  it,  some  o'  them 
wild  Texans  will  shoot  me,  like  as  not.  If  you 
can  do  the  trick,  I  '11  get  a  printer  to  work,  and 
early  in  the  morning  we  '11  come  out  with  a 
flaming  announcement  of  '  The  Return  of  Made 
moiselle  Fifine,  the  Matchless  Equestrienne  of 
the  Universe,'  and  you  can  go  into  the  ring  at 
the  afternoon  performance." 

I  did  n't  like  the  lies  he  intended  to  tell,  and 
404 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONCLUDED 

I  said  so.  I  wanted  him  to  give  me  some  other 
ring  name,  but  he  said  that  all  his  big,  coloured 
posters  had  Mademoiselle's  name  on  them,  with 
coloured  pictures  of  her  on  horseback,  and  that 
he  couldn't  afford  to  throw  the  posters  away, 
even  if  there  had  been  any  printers  in  Texas 
who  could  make  new  ones,  as  there  were  not. 

"  Besides,"  he  added,  "you'll  be  Mademoiselle 
Fifine,  just  as  much  as  Bridget  was.  Everybody 
knows  that  the  name  is  fictitious.  All  they  want 
is  to  see  good  riding,  and  if  you  can't  ride  as 
well  as  poor  Bridget  did,  I  could  n't  think  of 
engaging  you." 

I  had  to  consent,  and  indeed  I  saw  that  there 
was  really  no  deception  to  be  practised.  So  the 
Grand  Panjandrum  and  the  Lady  Superior  and  I 
sent  for  the  carriage  and  drove  back  to  the  circus 
tent,  which  was  dark  now,  except  for  the  dim 
light  of  a  few  watchmen's  lanterns.  I  went  to 
the  dressing-room  and  put  on  some  of  Fifine's 
riding-clothes  —  not  those  she  wore  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  audience,  but  a  plain  practice  gown 
of  black.  Meanwhile  the  manager  had  made 
the  men  light  up  a  little  and  bring  out  some 
ihorses. 

I  mounted  and  rode  a  little,  doing  my  very 
405 


EVELYN  BTRD 

best,  though  I  was  extremely  nervous  for  fear 
that  I  should  not  prove  to  be  acceptable.  I 
suppose  I  rode  a  good  deal  better  than  Bridget 
had  done,  for  the  manager,  his  wife,  and  all  the 
men  in  the  ring  seemed  greatly  delighted.  I 
ended  by  throwing  some  somersaults,  and  that 
set  them  almost  wild.  The  manager  engaged 
me  on  the  spot,  making  me  sign  the  contract  in 
the  dressing-room  tent  before  I  had  changed 
my  clothing.  Then  he  hurried  me  back  to  the 
tavern,  registered  me  as  Mademoiselle  Fifine, 
writing  the  name  in  a  big  hand  all  across  the 
page,  and  ordered  me  to  bed. 

"  You  must  n't  be  nervous  at  your  first  per 
formance,"  he  said;  "so  you  must  get  plenty 
of  sleep." 

When  it  came  time  to  go  to  the  circus,  I  was 
surprised  to  find  that  a  special  carriage,  drawn 
by  two  large,  white  horses  with  long,  flowing 
tails,  had  been  provided  for  me.  I  learned 
afterward  that  this  was  one  of  the  Grand  Pan 
jandrum's  devices  for  advertising  his  "  matchless 
equestrienne."  It  gave  the  people  the  impres 
sion  that  Mademoiselle  Fifine  was  a  person  of 
so  much  consequence  that  she  must  be  treated 
like  a  queen,  and  it  led  to  many  wild,  exag- 
406 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONCLUDED 

gerated  stories  of  the  royal  salary  the  manager 
had  to  pay  in  order  to  secure  so  distinguished 
an  "artiste."  It  was  popularly  believed  that 
"  ten  thousand  a  year  would  n't  touch  her "  ; 
that  she  had  her  own  carriage  and  coachman 
and  footman  and  maid,  and  always  the  finest 
rooms  in  the  hotel.  My  salary,  in  fact,  was  fifty 
dollars  a  month,  and  the  "coachman"  was  one 
of  the  ring  attendants.  But  I  did  have  the  best 
rooms  in  all  the  hotels.  The  Grand  Panjan 
drum  insisted  upon  that,  and  he  did  it  rather 
noisily,  too,  complaining  that  the  hotels  really 
had  no  rooms  fit  for  such  a  person  to  live  in. 
All  this  was  advertising,  of  course,  but  at  any 
rate  I  was  made  as  comfortable  as  could  be. 

I  succeeded  very  well  indeed  in  the  bareback 
riding,  and  at  my  suggestion  the  manager  sent 
an  agent  to  Campbell's  ranch  and  bought  the 
five  or  six  horses  there  that  I  had  trained.  I 
soon  drilled  them  to  perform  little  acts  in  the 
ring  which  seemed  to  please  the  public.  For 
this  the  manager  added  ten  dollars  a  month  to 
my  salary.  He  and  his  wife  were  always  very 
good  to  me,  but  some  of  the  actors  in  the  circus 
seemed  jealous  of  the  attention  shown  me  and 
of  the  applause  I  got  I  was  already  miserable, 
407 


EVELYN  BTRD 

because  I  hated  the  business  and  especially  my 
own  part  of  it. 

The  whole  thing  seemed  to  me  vulgar,  and 
the  people  I  had  to  associate  with  were  very 
coarse.  But  what  could  I  do  ?  Anything  was 
better  than  being  Campbell's  daughter,  and  the 
circus  gave  me  a  living  at  the  least. 

Chapter  the  Fifteenth 

T  DID  not  remain  long  with  the  circus  —  not 
•*•  more  than  four  or  five  months,  I  think  —  be 
fore  Campbell  found  out  where  I  was  and  came 
after  me.  If  the  manager  had  been  a  man  of 
any  courage,  I  should  have  refused  to  go  with 
Campbell.  But  when  Campbell  threatened  him 
with  all  sorts  of  lawsuits  and  prosecutions,  he 
agreed  to  discharge  me.  Even  then  I  should 
not  have  gone  with  Campbell  if  I  could  have 
got  the  money  due  me  for  my  riding.  But  after 
the  first  month  the  manager  had  paid  me  almost 
nothing,  on  the  plea  of  bad  business  (though  his 
tent  was  always  packed),  and  as  he  was  paying 
all  my  expenses  except  for  my  plain  clothes,  I 
had  n't  pressed  him  for  the  money.  He  owed 
me  nearly  two  hundred  dollars  when  Campbell 
came,  and  I  asked  him  for  it,  meaning  to  run 
408 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONCLUDED 

away  and  find  some  other  employment.  But 
Campbell  told  him  he  was  my  father  and  my 
guardian,  and  that  the  money  must  be  paid  to 
him  and  not  to  me.  The  manager  weakly 
yielded,  and  so  I  had  n't  enough  money  even  to 
pay  a  railroad  fare. 

Under  the  circumstances,  there  was  nothing 
for  me  to  do  but  go  with  Campbell.  He  had 
sold  the  ranch,  and  was  now  keeping  a  big 
wholesale  store  in  the  city  of  Austin.  He  had 
built  a  very  big  house,  and  had  a  great  many 
negro  servants  in  it.  Soon  after  I  got  to  Austin, 
Campbell's  store  was  burned,  and  I  thought  at 
first  that  he  was  ruined.  But  he  seemed  richer 
after  that  than  ever.  My  mother  told  me  it  was 
the  insurance  money,  and  a  good  many  people 
used  to  think  he  had  burned  the  store  himself. 
There  was  a  lawsuit  about  it,  but  Campbell  won. 

One  day  I  concluded  to  have  a  talk  with  him. 
I  asked  him  why  he  wanted  to  keep  me  with 
him,  and  why  he  would  n't  give  me  the  money  I 
had  earned  in  the  circus,  and  let  me  go  away. 

He  laughed  at  me,  and  told  me  it  was  because 

he  did  n't  choose  to  have  his  daughter  riding  in 

a  circus.     So  I  got  no  satisfaction  out  of  him 

then.    But  in  the  letter  he  sent  me  in  the  bundle 

409 


EVELYN  BTRD 

of  papers  that  Colonel  Kilgariff  brought  me,  he 
explained  the  matter.  It  was  because  he  feared 
I  would  get  somebody  else  to  be  my  guardian, 
and  any  new  guardian  would  come  upon  him 
for  the  stocks  and  bonds  my  father  had  given 
me.  Campbell  had  sold  all  of  them  that  he  could, 
and  was  using  the  money  himself. 

After  a  while,  Campbell  became  interested  in 
some  kind  of  business  —  I  don't  know  what  — 
out  in  Arizona  ;  and  when  he  had  to  go  out  there 
to  stay  for  several  months,  he  broke  up  his  house 
in  Austin,  and  took  my  mother  and  me  with  him. 
We  lived  in  tents  on  the  journey,  and  Campbell 
grew  very  uneasy  after  a  time,  because  there 
were  reports  of  a  threatened  Indian  war.  Still, 
we  travelled  on,  until  at  last  we  got  among  the 
Indians  themselves.  They  were  very  angry 
about  something,  but  Campbell  seemed  to  know 
how  to  deal  with  them,  in  some  measure  at 
least.  But  presently  the  war  broke  out  in  ear 
nest,  and  Campbell  told  my  mother  he  was  com 
pletely  ruined,  as  he  had  put  all  his  money  into  the 
business,  and  this  Indian  war  had  destroyed  it. 

One  day  he  had  a  parley  with  a  big  Indian 
chief,  and  that  night  he  took  my  mother  and 
went  away  somewhere,  leaving  me  in  the  tent 
410 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

alone.  About  midnight  a  band  of  Indians  came 
to  the  tent,  howling  like  so  many  demons.  They 
took  me  and  carried  me  away  on  one  of  their 
horses. 

I  was  greatly  frightened,  but  I  pretended  not 
to  be,  and  the  Indians  liked  me  for  that.  They 
always  like  people  who  are  not  afraid.  They 
treated  me  well  —  or  at  any  rate  they  did  me  no 
harm  —  but  they  carried  me  away  to  their  camp, 
where  all  their  squaws  and  children  were ;  for 
they  were  on  the  war-path  now,  and  Indians 
always  take  their  families  with  them  when  they 
go  to  war. 

When  I  found  that  they  were  not  disposed  to 
treat  me  badly  I  was  almost  glad  they  had  cap 
tured  me ;  for  at  least  they  had  taken  me  away 
from  Campbell,  and  I  liked  them  much  better 
than  I  did  him. 

In  the  letter  Campbell  sent  me  by  Colonel  Kil- 
gariff,  he  told  me  that  he  had  himself  planned 
my  capture  by  the  Indians.  He  had  arranged  it 
with  the  chief  when  he  had  the  parley  with  him  ; 
and  when  he  went  away  with  my  mother,  leaving 
me  in  the  tent  alone,  he  knew  the  Indians  were 
to  catch  me  that  night.  He  wanted  them  to  get 
me  because  then  I  could  n't  get  another  guar- 
411 


EVELYN  BTRD 

dian,  and  he  thought  I  could  never  come  back 
to  trouble  him  about  my  money  when  I  grew 
up.  I  don't  know  why  he  wrote  all  these 
things  to  me,  except  that  he  was  dying  and 
wanted  me  to  know  the  whole  story.  He  sent 
me  back  all  my  papers,  so  that  I  might  some 
day  get  what  was  left  of  the  property  my  father 
had  given  me.  Among  other  things,  he  told 
me  that  my  father  was  dead,  and  that  he  him 
self  had  killed  him  in  a  fight. 

Chapter  the  Sixteenth 

T  STAYED  with  the  Indians  for  several 
•*•  months  —  as  long  as  the  war  lasted.  It 
was  then  that  I  lived  on  buffalo  meat  alone, 
with  no  other  food.  Finally  the  soldiers  con 
quered  the  Indians  and  forced  them  to  go  back 
on  their  reservation.  Then  Campbell  came  to 
see  if  I  was  still  alive,  and,  finding  me,  he  took 
me  with  him  to  New  York,  where  he  was  prac 
tising  law  and  doing  something  in  a  bank. 
That  lasted  a  year  or  so.  Nothing  ever  lasted 
long  with  Campbell.  But  when  he  left  New 
York  and  went  to  Missouri  to  live,  he  seemed 
to  have  plenty  of  money  again. 

Soon  afterward,  this  war  came  on,  and  Camp- 
412 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

bell  raised  a  company,  got  himself  appointed  its 
captain,  and  went  into  the  Confederate  service. 
After  a  while,  he  came  home  on  a  leave  of 
absence.  He  and  my  mother  had  been  on  very 
bad  terms  for  a  long  time,  and  things  seemed 
worse  than  ever. 

One  day,  when  he  had  been  drinking  a  good 
deal,  he  insulted  my  mother  frightfully,  and  she 
turned  upon  him  at  last,  saying  she  intended  to 
expose  his  rascalities  and  "bring  him  to  book" 
—  that  was  her  phrase  —  for  embezzling  my 
property. 

Dorothy,  I  can't  tell  you  all  about  that  scene. 
I  was  so  shocked  and  frightened  that  it  gives 
me  a  nightmare  even  now  to  recall  it.  Camp 
bell  killed  my  mother  by  choking  her  to  death  in 
my  presence  ! 

As  I  was  the  only  person  who  saw  him  do  it, 
I  think  he  would  have  killed  me,  too,  if  I  had 
not  run  from  him.  As  it  was,  he  followed  me 
presently,  and  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand  told  me 
I  must  go  with  him,  adding  that  if  I  ever  told 
anybody  what  had  happened  he  would  kill  me. 

He  took  off  his  uniform  and  put  on  a  suit  of 
citizen's  clothing.  Then  he  made  me  mount 
a  horse,  he  mounting  another,  and  we  rode  all 


EVELTN  BTRD 

night.  In  the  morning  we  were  in  a  Federal 
camp. 

I  don't  know  what  Campbell  told  the  Federal 
officers,  but  he  satisfied  them  somehow,  and, 
taking  me  with  him,  he  went  East.  He  put  me 
in  charge  of  a  very  ugly  old  woman  and  her 
daughter,  somewhere  up  in  the  mountains  of 
Pennsylvania,  not  near  any  town  or  even  vil 
lage.  Then  he  went  away,  and  for  three  years 
I  lived  with  those  people,  practically  a  prisoner. 
They  never  for  a  moment  let  me  out  of  their 
sight,  and  at  night  I  had  to  sleep  in  an  upper 
room,  a  kind  of  loft,  which  had  no  window  and 
no  door  —  nothing  but  a  trap-door  over  the 
stairs.  Every  night  the  younger  woman  closed 
the  trap-door,  fastening  it  below.  The  two 
women  slept  in  tne  room  beneath. 

If  I  could  have  got  away,  I  should  have  gone, 
even  if  I  had  been  obliged  to  go  into  the  woods 
and  starve.  For  the  women  treated  me  hor 
ribly,  and  I  could  not  forget  the  scene  when  my 
mother  was  killed.  I  thought  of  her  always  as 
she  lay  there  on  the  floor,  dead,  with  her  face 
purple  and  —  I  can't  write  about  that. 

Once  I  tried  to  escape.  By  hard  work  I 
made  a  hole  in  the  roof  above  me,  one  night, 
414 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,   CONCLUDED 

and  tried  to  climb  up  to  it.  But  I  missed  my 
hold  and  fell  heavily  to  the  floor.  That  brought 
the  two  women  up  the  stairs,  and  after  that  they 
took  away  every  stitch  of  my  clothing  every 
night  before  I  went  to  bed,  not  leaving  me  even 
a  nightgown.  So  I  made  no  further  efforts  to 
escape. 

But  I  set  to  work  in  another  way.  I  had 
learned  that  Campbell  was  now  an  officer  in  the 
Federal  army,  and  I  managed  to  find  out  how 
to  reach  him  with  a  letter,  so  I  wrote  to  him. 
I  told  him  I  intended  to  have  him  hanged  for 
killing  my  mother,  and  that  it  did  n't  matter 
how  long  he  kept  me  in  the  mountains ;  that 
some  time  or  other,  sooner  or  later,  I  should 
get  free ;  and  that  whenever  that  time  came, 
I  meant  to  go  to  a  lawyer  and  tell  him  all  about 
the  crime. 

I  knew  that  this  would  make  Campbell  un 
easy.  I  thought  it  not  improbable  that  he  would 
come  up  into  the  mountains  and  kill  me,  though 
I  thought  he  might  be  afraid  to  do  that.  You 
see,  when  he  killed  my  mother  there  was  nobody 
but  me  to  tell  about  it,  and  he  knew  he  could  go 
to  the  other  side  in  the  war  and  not  be  followed  ; 
while  if  he  should  do  anything  to  me  up  there  in 
415 


EVELYN  BTRD 

the  Pennsylvania  mountains,  everybody  would 
know  of  it.  For  in  that  country  everybody  knew 
when  a  stranger  came  into  the  neighbourhood, 
and  when  he  went  away  again.  So  I  thought 
Campbell  would  be  afraid  to  kill  me  there.  I 
thought  my  letter  would  frighten  him,  and  that 
he  would  take  me  away  from  that  place.  That 
was  what  I  wanted.  I  thought  that  if  I  were 
taken  to  any  other  place,  I  should  have  a  better 
chance  of  escaping. 

Chapter  the  Seventeenth 

'  I AHAT  was  not  long  before  you  saw  me, 
•*•  Dorothy,  and  it  turned  out  as  I  had  ex 
pected.  Campbell  grew  alarmed.  He  ordered 
the  two  women  to  bring  me  to  him  in  Washing 
ton.  When  I  got  there,  he  told  me  that  I  had 
relatives  in  Virginia  who  wanted  me  to  come 
to  them,  and  that  he  had  arranged  to  send  me 
through  the  lines  under  a  flag  of  truce.  I  know 
now  that  he  was  not  telling  me  the  truth,  but  I 
believed  him  then,  and  I  was  ready  to  do  any 
thing  and  go  anywhere  if  only  I  could  get  out 
of  his  clutches. 

He   took   me   into    another   room,  where   an 
officer  was  writing,  and  there  they   made    me 
416 


EVELYN'S  BOOK,    CONCLUDED 

swear  to  a  parole.  Then  Campbell  took  me 
down  to  the  Rapidan,  and  we  went  into  that 
house  from  which  Colonel  Kilgariff  rescued  me. 
Campbell  said  that  the  flag  of  truce  would  start 
from  there,  but  that  we  must  wait  there  for  the 
soldiers  in  charge  of  it  to  come. 

When  the  shells  struck  the  house  and  set  it 
on  fire,  Campbell  took  me  to  the  cellar  and  left 
me  there,  saying  that  he  would  be  back  in  a  few 
minutes,  and  that  there  was  no  danger  in  the 
cellar.  I  know  now  what  his  intention  was. 
He  expected  me  to  be  burned  to  death  there  in 
the  cellar,  ami  it  would  have  happened  that  way, 
but  for  Colonel  Kilgariff. 

There,  Dorothy,  dear :  now  you  know  all 
about  me  that  I  know  about  myself. 

The  End  of  Evelyn's  Book. 


417 


XXIX 


EVELYN'S    VIGIL 

EVELYN  BYRD'S  exceeding  truthfulness 
of  mind  and  soul  made  her  a  transparent 
person  for  loving  eyes  to  look  through, 
and  Edmonia  Bannister's  eyes  were  very  loving 
ones  for  her. 

When  she  went  to  Branton  for  her  ten  days' 
visit,  Evelyn  herself  scarcely  knew  why  she 
wished  thus  to  separate  herself  from  Kilgariff ; 
but  she  went  with  a  subconscious  determination 
to  avoid  all  mention  of  his  name.  She  could 
hardly  have  adopted  a  surer  means  of  revealing 
her  state  of  mind  to  so  wise  and  so  experienced  a 
woman  as  Edmonia. 

After  much  thought  upon  the  subject,  Ed 
monia  sent  a  little  note  to  Dorothy.  In  it  she 
wrote :  — 

You  have  never  said  a  word  to  me  on  the  subject, 
Dorothy,  but  I  am  certain  that  you  know  what  the 
situation  is  between  Evelyn  and  Kilgariff.     So  do  I, 
now,  and  I  am  not  satisfied  to  have  it  so. 
418 


EVELYN'S   VIGIL 

Unless  you  peremptorily  forbid,  I  am  going  to  bring 
on  a  crisis  between  those  two.  I  am  going  to  tell 
Evelyn  what  Kilgariff  has  done  for  her  in  the  matter 
of  this  trust  fund.  When  she  knows  that,  there  will 
be  a  scene  of  some  sort  between  them,  and  I  think  we 
may  trust  love  and  human  nature  to  bring  it  to  a  happy 
conclusion. 

If  you  will  recall  what  occurred  when  the  trust 
papers  were  executed  and  given  to  us  three,  you  will 
remember  that  no  promise  of  secrecy  was  exacted  of 
us.  It  is  true  we  quite  understood  that  we  were  to 
say  nothing  to  Evelyn  about  the  matter  until  the 
proper  time  should  come ;  but  we  three  are  sole 
judges  as  to  what  is  the  proper  time,  and  Agatha  and 
I  are  both  of  the  opinion  that  the  proper  time  is  now. 
Unless  you  interpose  your  veto,  therefore,  I  shall  act 
upon  that  opinion,  making  myself  spokeswoman  for 
the  trio. 

Please  send  me  a  line  in  a  hurry. 

To  this  Dorothy  replied  by  the  messenger 
who  had  brought  the  note.  She  wrote  but  a 
single  sentence,  and  that  was  a  Biblical  quota 
tion.  She  wrote :  — 

Now  is  the  accepted  time :  behold,  now  is  the  day 
of  salvation. 

On  the  evening  before  the  day  appointed  for 
419 


EVELYN  BTRD 

Evelyn's  return  to  Wyanoke,  Dorothy  received 
a  second  note  from  Edmonia,  saying :  — 

I  don't  know  whether  we  have  done  wisely  or 
otherwise.  For  once  Evelyn  is  inscrutable.  We 
have  told  her  of  KilgarifFs  splendid  generosity,  and 
we  can't  make  out  how  she  takes  it.  She  has  grown 
very  silent  and  somewhat  nervous.  She  is  under  a 
severe  emotional  strain  of  some  kind,  but  of  what 
kind  we  do  not  know.  A  storm  of  some  sort  is  brew 
ing,  and  we  must  simply  wait  to  learn  what  its  char 
acter  is  to  be. 

Evelyn  is  proud  and  exceedingly  sensitive,  as  we 
know.  And  there  is  a  touch  of  the  savage  in  her  — 
or  rather  the  potentiality  of  the  savage  —  and  in  a 
case  where  she  feels  so  strongly,  it  may  result  in  an 
outbreak  of  savage  anger  and  resentment. 

We  need  n't  worry,  however,  I  think.  Even  such 
an  outbreak  would  in  all  probability  turn  out  well. 
Every  storm  passes,  you  know ;  and  when  the  clouds 
clear  away,  the  skies  are  all  the  bluer  for  it.  When  a 
man  and  a  woman  love  each  other  and  don't  know  it, 
or  don't  let  each  other  know  it,  any  sort  of  crisis,  any 
sort  of  emotional  collision,  is  apt  to  bring  about  a 
favourable  result. 

Evelyn  spent  that  evening  in  her  room,  writ 
ing  incessantly,  far  into  the  night. 
420 


EVELYN'S   VIGIL 

She  wrote  a  letter  to  Kilgariff.  When  she 
read  it  over,  she  tore  it  up. 

"  It  reads  as  if  I  were  angry,'.'  she  said  to  her 
self,  "  and  anger  is  not  exactly  what  I  feel.  I 
wonder  what  I  do  feel." 

Then  she  wrote  another  letter  to  Kilgariff, 
and  put  it  aside,  meaning  to  read  it  after  a 
while.  In  the  meantime  she  wrote  long  and 
lovingly  to  Dorothy,  telling  her  she  had  decided 
not  to  return  to  Wyanoke,  but  to -go  to  Peters 
burg  instead,  and  help  in  nursing  the  soldiers. 

When  she  had  read  that  letter  over,  she  was 
wholly  unsatisfied  with  it.  Written  words  are 
apt  to  mean  so  much  more  or  so  much  less  than 
is  intended.  She  put  it  aside  and  took  up  the 
one  to  Kilgariff.  As  she  read  it,  it  seemed 
even  more  unsatisfactory  than  the  first. 

"  It  is  too  humble  in  parts,  and  too  proud  in 
parts,"  she  thought. 

Again  she  set  to  work  and  wrote  both  letters 
once  more.  The  result  was  worse  than  before. 
The  letters  seemed  to  ring  with  a  false  note, 
and  above  all  things  she  was  determined  to 
meet  this  crisis  in  her  life  with  absolute  truth 
and  candour.  Besides,  she  not  only  wanted  to 
utter  her  thought  to  Kilgariff  —  she  wanted  to 
421 


EVELYN  BTRD 

hear  what  he  might  have  to  say  in  reply,  and 
she  wanted  to  see  his  face  as  he  spoke,  reading 
there  far  more  important  things  than  any  that 
he  could  put  into  a  letter. 

Suddenly  she  realised  that  she  was  very  cold. 
The  weather  was  growing  severe  now,  and  in 
her  preoccupation  she  had  neglected  her  fire 
until  it  had  burned  down  to  a  mass  of  slowly 
expiring  coals. 

Then  she  recovered  her  courage. 

"  I  have  been  trying  the  cowardly  way,"  she 
said  aloud,  but  speaking  only  to  herself.  "  I 
must  face  these  things  bravely.  I  've  been 
planning  to  run  away  again,  and  I  will  not  do 
that.  I  've  been  running  away  all  my  life.  I  '11 
never  run  away  again.  I  '11  go  to  Wyanoke  in 
the  morning." 

With  that,  she  gathered  all  the  sheets  on 
which  she  had  written  and  dropped  them  upon 
the  few  coals  which  remained  alive.  The  paper 
smouldered  and  smoked  for  a  time.  Then  it 
broke  into  a  flame  and  was  quickly  consumed. 

The  girl  prepared  herself  for  bed,  with  a  de 
gree  of  composure  which  she  had  not  been  able 
to  command  at  any  time  since  the  knowledge  of 
Kilgariff's  act  had  come  to  her.  When  she  blew 
422 


EVELYN'S   VIGIL 

out  her  candle  and  opened  the  window,  a  gust 
of  snow  was  blown  into  her  face,  and  she  heard 
the  howling  of  the  tempest  without. 

"  It  is  the  first  storm  of  the  winter,"  she 
thought,  as  she  drew  the  draperies  about  her. 
"  How  those  poor  fellows  must  be  suffering 
down  there  in  the  trenches  at  Petersburg  to 
night —  half  clad,  and  less  than  half  fed!" 

Then,  as  she  was  sinking  into  sleep,  she 
thought : — 

"  I  'm  glad  Mr.  Kilgariff  is  not  there  to 
night." 

The  thought  startled  her  into  wakefulness 
again,  and  during  the  remaining  hours  of  the 
night  she  lay  sleeplessly  thinking,  thinking, 
thinking. 


423 


XXX 

BEFORE   A   HICKORY   FIRE 

EVELYN'S  thinking  accomplished  its 
purpose.  At  the  end  of  it  she  under 
stood  herself,  or  thought  she  did.  And 
when  she  returned  to  Wyanoke  the  next  morn 
ing,  she  thought  she  knew  precisely  what  she 
was  going  to  say  to  Kilgariff.  But  who  of  us 
ever  knows  what  we  will  say  in  converse  that 
involves  emotion  ?  Who  of  us  can  know  what 
response  his  utterance  will  draw  forth  from  the 
other,  or  how  far  the  original  intent  may  be 
turned  into  another  by  that  response  ? 

At  any  rate,  Evelyn  knew  that  she  intended 
to  ask  Colonel  Kilgariff  for  an  interview,  and  so 
far  she  carried  out  her  purpose. 

They  were  left  alone  in  the  great  drawing- 
room  at  Wyanoke,  where  hickory  logs  were 
merrily  blazing  in  the  cavernous  fireplace,  quite 
as  if  there  had  been  no  war  to  desolate  the  land, 
and  no  man  and  woman  there  with  matters  of 
grave  import  to  discuss. 
424 


BEFORE   A    HICKORT  FIRE 

Evelyn  began  the  conference  abruptly,  as 
soon  as  Kilgariff  entered  and  took  a  seat. 

"  I  have  heard,"  she  began,  "  of  what  you 
have  done  —  of  your  great  generosity  toward 
me.  Of  course  I  cannot  permit  that.  You 
must  cancel  those  papers  at  once  —  to-day. 
I  cannot  sleep  while  they  exist." 

"Who  told  you  of  the  matter?"  Kilgariff 
asked  in  reply. 

"  Edmonia,  with  Dorothy's  permission  and 
Mrs.  Pegram's." 

"  They  should  not  have  told   you.     I  meant 

that  you  should  not  know  till  I  am  dead,  unless 

—  unless   I   should  live  longer  than  I   expect, 

and  you  should  fall  into  need  when   the  war 

ends." 

"  But  what  right  had  you  to  treat  me  so  ?  Do 
you  think  me  a  beggar,  that  I  should  accept  a 
gift  of  money  ?  Why  did  you  do  it  ? " 

The  girl  was  standing  now  and  confronting 
him,  in  manifest  anger. 

Curiously  enough,  he  did  not  seem  to  mind 
the  anger.  He  had  completely  mastered  him 
self,  and  knew  perfectly  what  he  was  to  say. 
He  answered :  — 

"  I  did  this  because  I  love  you,  Evelyn,  and 
425 


EVELYN  BTRD 

because  I  cannot  provide  for  your  future  in  any 
ordinary  way." 

Seeing  that  she  was  about  to  make  some 
reply,  he  quickly  forestalled  it,  saying :  — 

"  Please  let  me  continue.  Please  do  not 
speak  yet.  Let  me  explain." 

The  girl  was  still  standing,  but  the  look  of 
anger  in  her  face  had  given  way  to  another 
expression — one  more  complex  and  less  easily 
interpreted.  There  was  some  pleasure  in  it, 
and  some  apprehension,  together  with  great 
astonishment. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said. 

"  Only  on  even  terms,"  he  answered,  rising 
and  standing  in  front  of  her.  "  What  I  have 
to  say  to  you  must  be  said  with  my  eyes  look 
ing  into  yours.  Now  listen.  By  reason  of  a 
quite  absurd  convention,  a  young  woman  may 
not  receive  gifts  of  value,  and  especially  of 
money,  from  a  young  man  not  her  husband  ; 
yet  she  may  freely  take  such  gifts  if  they  come 
to  her  by  his  will,  after  he  is  dead. 

"  There  are  circumstances  which  render  it  im 
possible  for  me  to  leave  my  possessions  to  you 
by  will.  Any  will  that  I  might  make  to  that 
effect  would  be  contested  and  broken  by  those 
426 


BEFORE  A   HICKORY  FIRE 

for  whom  I  care  so  little  that  I  would  rather 
sink  everything  I  have  in  the  world  in  the  At 
lantic  Ocean  than  let  them  inherit  a  dollar  of  it. 

"There  are  also  reasons  which  forbid  me  to 
ask  you  to  be  my  wife  —  at  least  until  I  shall 
have  laid  those  reasons  before  you." 

Evelyn  was  pale  and  trembling.  Kilgariff 
saw  that  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  stand,  so, 
taking  her  hand,  he  said:  — 

"  Let  us  sit ;  I  have  a  long  story  to  tell." 

Whether  purposely  or  not,  he  continued  to 
hold  her  hand  after  they  were  seated.  Whether 
consciously  or  not,  she  permitted  him  to  do  so, 
without  protest.  He  went  on  :  — 

"  There  was  only  one  other  way  to  accomplish 
my  purpose.  It  was  and  still  is  my  wish  that 
everything  I  have  in  the  world  shall  be  yours 
when  I  die.  You  are  the  woman  I  love,  and 
though  I  have  no  right  to  say  so  to  you  now, 
my  love  for  you  is  the  one  supreme  passion  of 
my  life  —  the  first,  the  last,  the  only  one.  Pardon 
me  for  saying  that,  and  please  forget  it,  at  least 
for  the  present.  I  have  relatives,  but  they  are 
worse  than  dead  to  me,  as  you  shall  hear  pres 
ently.  I  would  rather  destroy  everything  I  have 
by  fire  or  flood  than  allow  one  cent  of  it  to  pass 
427 


EVELYN  BTRD 

into  their  unworthy  hands.     Enough   of   that. 
Let  me  go  on. 

"  There  was  only  one  way  in  which  I  could 
carry  out  my  purpose,  and  that  was  the  one  I 
adopted.  I  could  not  consult  you  about  it  or 
ask  your  permission,  for  that  would  have  been 
indeed  to  affront  you  in  precisely  the  way  in 
which  you  now  tell  me  I  have  affronted  you.  It 
would  have  been  to  ask  you  to  accept  a  money 
gift  at  my  hands  while  I  yet  lived.  I  intended, 
instead,  to  give  you  all  I  possess,  only  after  my 
death  and  in  effect  by  my  will  or  its  equivalent. 
I  did  not  intend  you  to  be  embarrassed  by  any 
knowledge  of  my  act,  until  a  bullet  or  shell 
should  have  laid  me  low.  Now  I  want  you  to 
speak,  please.  I  want  you  to  say  that  you  un 
derstand,  and  that  you  forgive  me." 

"I  understand,"  she  said;  "there  is  nothing 
to  forgive ;  but  now  that  I  know  your  purpose, 
I  cannot  permit  it.  You  must  cancel  those 
papers." 

"  Does  it  make  no  difference  that  I  have  told 
you  I  love  you,  and  that  I  should  entreat  you  to 
be  my  wife  if  I  were  free  to  do  so  ? " 

"  I  do  not  see,"  she  replied,  "  that  that  makes 
a  difference." 

428 


BEFORE  A   HICKORY  FIRE 

"  Do  not  decide  the  matter  now,  wait ! "  he 
half  entreated,  half  commanded.  "  Let  me  finish 
what  I  have  to  say.  Let  me  tell  you  why  I  must 
do  this  thing.  Wait !  " 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  collecting  his 
thoughts.  Then  he  told  her  his  life-story,  omit 
ting  nothing,  concealing  nothing,  palliating 
nothing.  That  done,  he  went  on  :  — 

"  You  understand  now  why  I  was  driven  to 
the  course  I  have  adopted  with  you.  You 
understand  that  as  an  honourable  man  I  could 
not  ask  you  for  love,  leaving  you  in  ignorance 
of  the  fact  that  I  am  under  a  conviction  of  fel 
ony.  My  sentence  is  at  an  end,  of  course,  and 
I  cannot  be  rearrested,  inasmuch  as  I  am  offi 
cially  adjudged  to  be  dead.  But  that  makes  no 
difference  in  my  duty.  I  could  not  honourably 
reveal  my  love  to  you  until  you  should  know 
the  facts.  I  do  not  now  ask  you  to  accept  my 
wrecked  life  and  to  forget  the  facts  that  have 
wrecked  it.  I  have  no  right  to  ask  so  great  a 
sacrifice  at  your  hands.  I  ask  only  that  you 
shall  permit  me  to  regard  you  as  the  woman  I 
love,  the  woman  I  should  have  sought  to  make 
my  wife  if  I  had  been  worthy.  I  ask  your  per 
mission  so  to  arrange  my  affairs,  or  so  to  leave 
429 


EVELYN  BTRD 

them  as  already  arranged,  that  at  my  death  all 
that  I  have  will  pass  into  your  hands.  You  can 
never  know  or  dream  or  imagine  how  I  love 
you,  Evelyn.  Surely  it  is  only  a  little  thing 
that  I  ask  of  you." 

As  he  delivered  this  passionate  utterance, 
Kilgariff  threw  his  arm  around  the  girl's  waist, 
and  for  a  moment  held  her  closely.  She  let 
her  head  rest  upon  his  shoulder,  and  did  not 
resist  or  resent  his  impulse  when  he  kissed  her 
reverently  upon  the  forehead. 

But  an  instant  later,  she  suddenly  realised 
the  situation,  and  quickly  sprang  to  her  feet, 
he  rising  with  her  and  facing  her  with  strained 
nerves  and  eyes  fixed  upon  her  own,  sternly  but 
caressingly. 

Evelyn  Byrd  was  not  given  to  tears,  and  for 
that  reason  the  drops  that  now  trickled  down 
her  cheeks  had  far  more  meaning  to  Kilgariff 
than  a  woman's  tears  sometimes  have  for  a  man. 

For  a  time,  she  looked  him  full  in  the  face, 
not  attempting  to  conceal  her  tears  even  by 
brushing  them  away.  She  simply  let  them 
flow,  as  an  honest  expression  of  her  emotion. 

Finally  she  so  far  composed  herself  as  to 
speak. 

430 


BEFORE   A   HICKORY  FIRE 

"Owen  Kilgariff,"  she  said  —  it  was  the  first 
time  she  had  ever  so  addressed  him  —  "  Owen 
Kilgariff,  you  have  dealt  honestly  with  me ;  I 
want  to  deal  honestly  with  you.  If  I  were 
worthy  of  your  love,  I  should  rejoice  in  it.  As 
it  is,  this  is  the  greatest  calamity  of  my  life. 
You  do  not  know  —  but  you  shall.  There  are 
reasons  that  forbid  me  to  accept  the  love  you 
have  offered  —  peremptory  reasons.  You  shall 
know  them  quickly." 

With  that  she  glided  out  of  the  room,  and 
Owen  Kilgariff  was  left  alone. 


431 


XXXI 

THE   LAST  FLIGHT   OF   EVELYN 

EVELYN  went  for  a  few  minutes  to  her 
room.  There  she  bathed  her  eyes ;  for 
like  all  women,  she  was  ashamed  of  the 
tears  that  did  her  honour  by  attesting  the  tender 
intensity  of  her  womanhood. 

That  done,  she  went  to  the  laboratory,  where 
she  found  Dorothy  at  work.  To  her  she  said  :  — • 

"  Please  let  me  have  my  book.  I  want  Mr. 
Kilgariff  to  read  it." 

Dorothy  asked  no  explanation.  She  needed 
none.  She  went  at  once  and  fetched  the  manu 
script.  Evelyn  took  it  and  returned  to  the  par 
lour,  where  she  placed  it  in  Kilgariff's  hands. 

"  Please  read  that,  carefully,"  she  said.  "  Then 
you  will  understand." 

"If  you  mean,"  he  replied,  "that  anything 
this  manuscript  may  reveal  concerning  your 
past  life  can  lessen  my  love  for  you,  you  are 
utterly  wrong,  and  the  reading  is  unnecessary. 
If  you  wish  only  that  I  shall  know  you  better, 
and  more  perfectly  understand  the  influences 
432 


THE   LAST  FLIGHT  OF  EVELYN 

that  have  made  you  the  woman  you  are,  I  shall 
be  glad  to  read  every  line  and  word  that  you 
have  written." 

"  Please  read  it."  That  was  all  she  said,  and 
she  instantly  left  the  room. 

Five  minutes  later  she  told  Dorothy  she 
wanted  the  carriage. 

"I  want  to  go  to  Warlock,"  she  said,  "on  a 
little  visit  to  Mrs.  Pegram.  Oh,  Dorothy !  you 
understand." 

"Yes,  dear,"  answered  Dorothy,  "I  under 
stand.  It  is  rather  late  to  start  to  Warlock. 
It  is  a  thirty-mile  drive.  But  I  '11  give  you 
Dick  for  your  coachman,  and  there  is  a  moon. 
Dick  is  quite  a  military  man  now,  and  he  knows 
what  a  forced  march  means.  He  '11  get  you  to 
Warlock  in  time  for  a  late  supper." 

Dick  drove  like  a  son  of  Jehu.  After  the 
manner  of  the  family  negro  in  Virginia,  he 
shrewdly  conjectured  v/hat  was  in  the  wind ; 
and  when  he  put  up  his  horses  at  Warlock 
before  even  the  regular  supper  was  served,  he 
said  to  the  stableman  :  — 

"  I  reckon  mebbe  Mas'  Owen  Kilgariff  '11  want 
stablin'   here  for  a  good   horse  to-morrow,  an' 
purty  soon  in  de  mawhin'  at  dat." 
433 


XXXII 

THE    END    OF   IT   ALL 

ICK  was  right.  Kilgariff  read  nearly 
all  night,  and  finished  Evelyn's  book 
in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning. 
Then  he  slept  more  calmly  than  he  had  done  at 
any  time  during  recent  weeks. 

At  six  o'clock  he  went  to  the  kitchen 
and  negotiated  with  Aunt  Kizzey,  the  cook, 
for  an  immediate  cup  of  coffee.  Then  he 
mounted  the  war-horse  that  had  brought  him 
to  Wyanoke  —  sleek  and  strong,  now,  and  full 
of  gallop  —  and  set  off  for  Warlock  plan 
tation. 

When  he  got  there,  the  nine  o'clock  break 
fast  was  just  ready,  but  he  had  luckily  met 
Evelyn  in  a  strip  of  woodland,  where  she  was 
walking  in  spite  of  the  snow  that  lay  ankle- 
deep  upon  the  ground.  Dismounting,  he  said 
to  her :  — 

"  1  have  read  your  book  from  beginning  to 
434 


THE   END    OF  IT  ALL 

end,  Evelyn.  I  have  come  now  for  your  answer 
to  my  question." 

"  What  question  ? "  she  asked,  less  frankly 
than  was  her  custom. 

"  Will  you  be  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  gladly,"  she  said,  "  if  my  story  makes 
no  difference." 

"  It  makes  a  great  difference,"  he  responded. 
"  It  tells  me,  as  nothing  else  could,  what  a 
woman  you  are.  It  intensifies  my  love,  and 
my  resolution  to  make  all  the  rest  of  your  life 
an  atonement  to  you  for  the  suffering  you  have 
endured." 

The  next  day  Evelyn  cut  short  her  visit  to 
Warlock  and  returned  to  Wyanoke.  At  the 
same  time  Kilgariff  went  back  to  Petersburg  to 
bear  his  part  in  the  closing  scenes  of  the  great 
est  war  of  all  time. 

Grant  was  already  in  possession  of  the  Wei- 
don  Railroad.  With  his  limitless  numbers,  he 
had  been  able  to  stretch  his  line  southward 
and  westward  until  his  advance  threatened  the 
cutting  off  of  the  two  other  railroads  that 
constituted  Richmond's  only  remaining  lines  of. 
communication  southward.  Lee's  small  force, 
without  hope  of  reinforcement,  had  been 
435 


E^ELTN  BTRD 

stretched  out  into  a  line  so  long  and  so  thin 
that  at  many  points  the  men  holding  the  works 
stood  fully  a  dozen  yards  apart. 

Still,  they  held  on  with  a  grim  determination 
that  no  circumstance  could  conquer. 

They  perfectly  knew  that  the  end  was  ap 
proaching.  They  perfectly  knew  that  that  end 
could  mean  nothing  to  them  but  disaster. 
Nevertheless,  they  stood  to  their  guns  and 
stubbornly  resisted  every  force  hurled  against 
them.  With  heroic  cheerfulness,  they  fought 
on,  never  asking  themselves  to  what  purpose. 
Throughout  the  winter  they  suffered  starvation 
and  cold ;  for  food  was  scarce,  and  of  clothing 
there  was  none. 

Surely  the  spectacle  was  one  in  contemplation 
of  which  the  angels  might  have  paused  in  admi 
ration.  Surely  the  heroism  of  those  devoted 
men  was  an  exhibition  of  all  that  is  best  in  the 
American  character,  a  display  of  courage  which 
should  be  for  ever  cherished  in  the  memory  of 
all  American  men. 

When  the  spring  came,  and  the  roads  hard 
ened,  Grant  delivered  the  final  blow.  Sherman 
had  cut  the  Confederacy  in  two  by  his  march  to 
the  sea,  and  was  now,  in  overwhelming  force, 
436 


THE   END    OF  IT  ALL 

pushing  his  way  northward  again,  with  intent 
to  unite  his  army  with  Grant's  for  Lee's  de 
struction. 

Then  Grant  concentrated  a  great  army  on  his 
left  and  struck  a  crushing  blow.  Lee  withdrew 
from  Richmond  and  Petersburg,  and  made  a 
desperate  endeavour  to  retreat  to  some  new  line 
of  defence  farther  south. 

The  effort  was  foredoomed  to  failure.  It 
ended  in  the  surrender  at  Appomattox  of  a 
little  fragment  of  that  heroic  Army  of  North 
ern  Virginia  which  had  for  so  long  stood  its 
ground  against  overwhelming  odds,  and  so  man 
fully  endured  hunger  and  cold  and  every  other 
form  of  suffering  that  may  befall  the  soldier. 

It  was  during  that  last  retreat  that  Kilgariff 
and  Evelyn  met  for  the  first  time  since  they  had 
plighted  troth,  and  for  the  last  time  as  mere 
man  and  woman,  not  husband  and  wife. 

Kilgariff,  a  brigadier-general  now,  had  been 
ordered  to  take  command  of  the  guns  defending 
the  rear.  By  night  and  by  day  he  was  always 
in  action.  But  when  the  line  of  march  passed 
near  to  Wyanoke,  he  sent  a  messenger  to 
Evelyn,  bearing  a  note  scrawled  upon  a  scrap 
of  paper  which  he  held  against  his  saddle- 
437 


EVELYN  BTRD 

tree,  in  lieu  of  a  desk.     In  the  note  he  wrote 
simply :  — 

Come  to  me,  wherever  I  am  to  be  found.  I  want 
you  to  be  my  wife  before  I  die.  You  have  courage. 
Come  to  me  —  we  '11  be  married  in  battle,  and  the 
guns  shall  play  the  wedding  march. 

Evelyn  responded  to  the  summons,  and  these 
two  were  made  one  upon  the  battlefield,  with 
bullets  flying  about  their  heads  and  rifle  shells 
applauding. 

The  ceremony  ended,  Evelyn  rode  away  to 
Wyanoke  to  await  the  end.  A  week  later  Owen 
Kilgariff  joined  her  there. 

"  We  are  beginning  life  anew,"  he  said,  "  and 
together." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  and  at  last  I  have 
nothing  to  fear." 


THE    END 


438 


NEW  POPULAR  EDITIONS  OF 

MARY  JOHNSTON'S 
NOVELS 

TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD 

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sands,  as  did  this  one.  The  ablest  critics  spoke  of 
it  in  such  terms  as  "  Breathless  interest,"  The  high 
water  mark  of  American  fiction  since  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin,"  "  Surpasses  all,"  "  Without  a  rival,"  "Ten 
der  and  delicate,"  "  As  good  a  story  of  adventure  as 
one  can  find,"  "  The  best  style  of  love  story,  clean, 
pure  and  wholesome." 
AUDREY 

With  the  brilliant  imagination  and  the  splendid 
courage  of  youth,  she  has  stormed  the  very  citadel 
of  adventure.  Indeed  it  would  be  impossible  to 
carry  the  romantic  spirit  any  deeper  into  fiction. — 
Agnes  Repplier. 

PRISONERS  OF  HOPE 

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esting,  American,  original,  vigorous,  full  of  move 
ment  and  life,  dramatic  and  fascinating,  instinct  with 
life  and  passion,  and  preserving  throughout  a  singu 
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THE  JUNGLE,  BY  UPTON  SINCLAIR: 

A  book  that  startled  the  world  and  caused  two  hemi 
spheres  to  sit  up  and  think.  Intense  in  interest,  the 
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the  Twentieth  Century." 

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BENJAMIN  KIDD, 

SOCIAL   EVOLUTION, 

PRINCIPLES   OF   WESTERN   CIVILISATION. 

Two  volumes  of  special  interest  and  importance,  in 
view  of  the  social  unrest  of  the  present  time. 

HENRY  GEORGE,  JR. 

THE   MENACE   OF   PRIVILEGE. 

A  study  of  the  dangers  to  the  Republic  from  the  exist 
ence  of  a  favored  class. 
ROBERT  HUNTER, 

POVERTY. 

An  exhaustive  study  of  present  day  conditions  among 
the  poorer  classes. 

JAMES  BRYCE, 

SOCIAL   INSTITUTIONS   OF   THE   UNITED   STATES. 

The  author's  recent  appointment  as  the  representative 
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MONOPOLIES   AND   TRUSTS. 

A  masterly  presentation  of  the  Trust  Problem,  by  ? 
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Price,  seventy-five  cents  each,  postpaid. 

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THE    GROSSET   6-    DUNLAP   EDITIONS 
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GARDEN  MAKING,  by  PROFESSOR  L.  H.  BAILEY, 
Professor  of  Horticulture,  Cornell  University. 
Suggestions    for    the     Utilizing     of     Home 
Grounds.       12  mo.,  cloth,   250  illustrations. 
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HUNN  AND  L.  H.  BAILEY. 

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A   WOMAN'S    HARDY    GARDEN,    by   HELENA 
RUTHERFURD  ELY.       With  forty-nine  illustra 
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THE   POPULAR   NOVELS  OF 

A.  W.  MARCHMONT 

NOW  OFFERED  IN  HANDSOMELY  MADE 
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A  DASH  FOR  A  THRONE 

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MISER  HOADLEY'S  SECRET 

With  illustrations  by  CLARE  ANGELL. 

THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM 

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